


Seeing Double

by Kkane88



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Twins, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Awesome Abby Sharp, Caretaking, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sharing a Bed, Sharpy is the bestest friend, Sleep Deprivation, Therapy, reiterating, wow the tags make this seem so dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26284873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kkane88/pseuds/Kkane88
Summary: Patrick's built a life for himself in Chicago over the past few years- a life separate from his twin where he doesn’t have to live in Danny’s shadow. He’s won cups with this team, fought with this team, and they’re more like a family to him than any group of friends has any right to be.And then Danny gets traded to the Hawks.
Relationships: Patrick Kane/Jonathan Toews
Comments: 47
Kudos: 343
Collections: 1988: Locked In





	Seeing Double

**Author's Note:**

> This has been a labor of love that's taken me 9 months to finish and it turned out a lot different than I originally planned. I'm so thankful the quraranthon gave me the final push needed to finish it! Set vaguely in 2014/2015 but not canon compliant.  
>   
> Please see the end notes for spoiler-y warnings if you're worried about any of the tags.  
>   
> Special thanks to Kerry, [Ann](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tedda/pseuds/Tedda/works), [Sarah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fraudulentzodiacs/pseuds/fraudulentzodiacs/works), and [Lindsey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchasslowry/pseuds/bitchasslowry/works) for betaing and letting me scream about this, Allie for letting me bombard you with medical questions, and everyone else who encouraged me the past few months!

Patrick has always hated having a twin.

Sure, when they were little it was all fun and games: playing pranks on their parents and sisters and teachers, pretending to be the other twin and switching places in the middle of the school day to see if anyone noticed. Sometimes they got away with it; most of the time they didn’t. Patrick and Danny are just too different to fool anyone.

The differences between them grew as they got older. Patrick didn’t dislike his brother. Not at first, anyway. They shared the same hobbies, had the same friends, were in the same classes. But Danny was better. At _everything._ No matter what they did, he always left Patrick in his shadow. Band? Danny was first chair and could play practically any instrument, while Patrick had to practice for hours just to sound passable. He dropped out pretty quick. School? Danny had straight A’s without even trying, while Patrick studied for _hours_. Dating? Guys and girls alike followed Danny around like he was made of some kind of love potion, and he soaked up the attention like a sponge. As Patrick drew into himself, became shy and quiet and focused on his hockey, Danny’s personality grew and grew and grew until he took up every inch of space in any room he entered. Patrick _had_ to retreat, or risk being overtaken.

Even their younger sisters idolized Danny, hanging onto his every word, asking for his help on their homework, checking and double checking that he would come to their plays or games or recitals. They all teamed up on Patrick: teased him, played pranks on him, made him feel unwelcome in his own home until he found a new one at the hockey rink.

Hockey was the one thing that Patrick excelled at while Danny was just good. Patrick was drafted first overall to the Blackhawks while Danny was drafted 36th overall to the Coyotes. He’d tried not to be smug about it, but he couldn’t hide the absolute _triumph_ when the Blackhawks called his name and his brother had to sit and watch him walk up on that stage and pull that jersey over his head. He _earned_ it. He _fought_ for it. Danny may have everything else, but hockey is Patrick’s.

Jonny’s words that first year- _“I was hoping they would pick you,”_ and _“we’re gonna fill this place up,”_ and _“we can do this, Kaner, you and me,”_ \- created space for Patrick where before there was none. It gave him room to grow, to find himself, to _choose_ who he wanted to be.

He’s built a life for himself in Chicago over the past few years- a life separate from his twin where he doesn’t have to live in Danny’s shadow. He’s won cups with this team, fought with this team, and they’re more like a family to him than any group of friends has any right to be. He loves his parents and siblings, but he doesn’t know what he would do without these guys who he _knows_ will have his back through anything.

He doesn’t really know what to expect when he gets the phone call from Q to come into his office. It’s an off day, no skate or anything, so he’s a little annoyed at having to go in but he knows Q wouldn’t ask him if it wasn’t important.

“Sit down, Kaner,” Q says with a grin when Patrick walks into his office. Patrick’s not nervous, exactly; this isn’t the first time he’s been called in to have a chat with coach, but there’s not usually this much glee in Quenville’s eyes and Patrick doesn’t really know what to do with it.

“What’s up?” he asks, clasping his hands in his lap so he doesn’t start fidgeting.

“We have some exciting news,” Q announces, mustache twitching excitedly. “We’ve made a trade. A couple of the prospects are headed to Arizona.” _Arizona._ Patrick’s stomach drops, his heart racing, and he feels himself starting to sweat. He almost doesn’t even need to hear coach say the next words. He pinches his own leg to see if this is a nightmare, but all he gets is a dull ache in response.

“In exchange for?” he asks, somehow keeping his voice from shaking. Q grins at him like this is the best day of his life, and when he speaks it almost seems to be in slow motion.

“Daniel Kane,” he says with a flourish.

“O-oh,” Patrick manages to stutter out. He expected it, but hearing it makes his stomach heave. Coach is beaming, like he expects Patrick to be thrilled that the life he’s so carefully built for himself is being torn apart in one fell swoop. Is he being a little dramatic? Possibly. But Danny was always the golden boy, and no matter how good Patrick is at hockey, Danny’s just going to sweep into the locker room and steal the hearts of the people that matter most in Patrick’s world.

“Your brother’s joining the team!” Coach reiterates happily. Patrick can already picture how this is going to go. Some of the guys have already met Danny. He usually joins them for drinks after their teams play each other- the only time Patrick really speaks to him outside of holidays- and the boys already seem a little too fond of Danny for Patrick’s taste. No doubt they’ll all be thrilled at the news.

Patrick’s not really aware of what happens after that. He knows he says something, fakes some enthusiasm, but he can’t remember the words that come out of his mouth. He knows the way he rushes from the room is abrupt enough that it cuts off whatever goodbye Q was in the middle of. He doesn’t particularly care. He just wants to go home and have his meltdown in peace.

“Kaner, wait up!” Jonny’s voice breaks Patrick out of his fog and he turns to see Jonny jogging across the parking lot toward him. Despite the overwhelming dread in the pit of his stomach, Patrick can’t help but relax a bit. No matter what else is happening in his life, Jonny’s always been a constant: a solid foundation that Patrick can depend on. He doesn’t know what he would do if Jonny wasn’t around.

“Oh, hey,” Patrick says distractedly, leaning his back against his car door to wait for Jonny to catch up. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just meeting with the trainers,” Jonny explains. When he gets close, his eyes narrow and he leans in to get a good look at Patrick’s face. “You alright?”

“Yeah, it’s just… Q called me in to talk,” Patrick says, watching Jonny’s eyes widen in concern. “He just wanted to tell me that, uh… my brother’s coming to Chicago. They traded some prospects for him.”

“Oh yeah?” Jonny smiles, wide and happy. It makes Patrick want to shrink in on himself, but he pointedly keeps his stance loose and open. “That’s awesome, eh?”

“Yeah,” Patrick says lamely. He’s never told anyone about his feelings toward his brother. Danny may have been Patrick’s worst nightmare growing up, but to everyone else he’s always been a great guy, their best buddy. No one would understand why Patrick has avoided speaking to him practically since their draft day, and he doesn’t want to drag Jonny into his mess.

“You know we’re all gonna make him feel welcome, yeah?” Jonny’s playing the part of the concerned captain: brow furrowed, earnest eyes fixed firmly on Patrick’s so Patrick knows he has his full attention. He’s obviously picked up on Patrick’s lack of enthusiasm, even though he doesn’t know what’s causing it. “We’ll do whatever we can to make him feel at home.”

“I know.” He _does_ know. Danny’s not going to have any problem fitting right in. “But, hey, I better get home. Gotta get ready for my new house guest.” Jonny nods and Patrick starts to turn to open the door when he suddenly has an arm thrown around his neck as Jonny pulls him into a hug. Before Patrick realizes what he’s doing, he has the soft fabric of Jonny’s shirt gripped tight and his face buried against the crook of Jonny’s neck. He knows he shouldn’t, but he takes a second to just breathe. He lets the hug go on too long, doesn’t pull away as quick as he should, but neither does Jonny. Sometimes they have moments like this, where it’s just the two of them and Patrick gets trapped in his own head and Jonny will swoop in and pull him out. His touch is grounding and he always, _always_ lets Patrick hold on as long as he needs to.

But right now, Patrick doesn’t want Jonny to know that he needs grounding. With one last deep breath he un-clenches his hands and pulls back slowly, trying to smile like there’s nothing wrong. Jonny’s concerned and confused, like he can see something’s up, but he doesn’t know what it is and he just wants to _help_. Patrick loves him. He really, truly does.

“See ya,” he says, forcing false cheer into his voice, before he turns to climb into his car.

“You bringing him to Sharpy’s?” Jonny asks while Patrick pulls his seatbelt on. Patrick had completely forgotten about the barbeque at Sharpy’s in a couple days and a fresh wave of dread washes through him.

“Yeah, I guess,” Patrick agrees hesitantly. “I’ll have to talk to him. I don’t know when he’s getting here or anything yet.”

“Right,” Jonny agrees. “See you later, then. Let me know if you need any help getting him settled in or anything.”

“Thanks,” Patrick says, a little softer. Jonny really is the best guy Patrick knows. Jonny smiles at him, stepping out of the way of the door and closing it for Patrick, waving goodbye before he walks away to his own car.

When he gets home, he figures he might as well make sure everything’s clean. No one actually said that Danny’s going to be living with him, but he’s pretty sure that’s just something that’s implied. He’s vacuuming the guest room when he feels his phone buzzing in his pocket. He groans when he sees the name flashing across the screen.

“Hey mom,” he greets, shutting off the vacuum.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the news?” she asks, her excitement bleeding into every syllable. He barely manages to hold back a sigh.

“About Danny? Yeah I just got home from talking to coach.”

“This is going to be so good for you two!” she gushes. Patrick already starts tuning out, only hearing half of what she says. Things like, “you used to spend so much time together when you were younger, it’ll be so nice for you to have that time again.” Or like, “he’ll be so much happier there in Chicago. He’s been having a hard time in Arizona.” Which, _sure_ , Patrick _totally_ believes that. But Patrick’s attention spikes when she says, “I’m so glad he’ll be able to get to know Jonathan more.”

“What?” Patrick cuts off whatever she was about to say. “What do you mean by that?” There’s a telling silence on the other end of the line.

“I just mean,” she starts carefully, “that I know you and Jonathan are close.”

“Mom-”

“Close enough to spend holidays together.” And, okay, that was _one time_ , when they were already in Winnipeg at Christmastime. It was easier than flying to Buffalo for one day, but he’ll never live it down. “I just know that he’s been disappointed that he hasn’t gotten to spend as much time with you and Jonathan as we have, because he’s been in Arizona when we visit you. I know you’ve spent some time together after you played each other, but it’s not the same, Patrick.”

“Right,” Patrick says, not really knowing what else to say to that. Sure his family knows he and Jonny are close, but she’s making it sound like there’s more to it than that. He needs to end this conversation quick before he gets trapped in something he doesn’t know how to escape. “Mom, I gotta go. I was just trying to get the spare room ready for him.”

“Okay, sweetheart, I’ll let you go,” she agrees, excited again. “Just call me if you need anything.” It takes a couple more promises that he’ll remember to call her before he can finally hang up. He stares down at his phone for a second before he bites the bullet and pulls up Danny’s number.

_Welcome to chi town bud. Room’s ready for you._

🏒🏒🏒

Danny calls him later that night to give him all the details for when his plane is coming in. It won’t be until after practice, so at least Patrick will have some time to adjust to the idea of him being there before he has to introduce him to the guys. Still, he has the _worst_ time trying to sleep the night before, just knowing what’s coming the next day.

He gets through practice the next morning without much incident, just some lighthearted chirps from the boys.

“How are we supposed to tell you two apart?” Shawzy asks in the locker room after practice. Jonny, Sharpy, Seabs, Duncs, and Crow and are the only ones who have met Danny before, and with their helmets on Danny and Patrick do look pretty similar.

“Last I checked he still keeps his hair short,” Patrick says, pointedly ruffling his own hair. He hadn’t particularly liked keeping his hair longer at first, but he was sick of people getting them confused at school. Now he’s just so used to it he can’t imagine cutting it short again. Plus, sometimes Jonny will pull on his curls just to be a dick, and Patrick will die before he admits it, but he kinda likes it.

“And I think Danny’s a little taller,” Sharpy shouts from across the room, laughing at the glare Patrick throws at him. The worst part is, he’s not wrong. “Come on, Peekaboo, you’re perfect just the way you are.” Patrick flips him off, earning laughs from the rest of the guys that settles over him like a balm. He really, really loves his team. They start to clear out one by one and Patrick checks his watch. He needs to get a move on to go pick Danny up at the airport.

“Hey Kaner,” Q’s voice stops him just before he’s out the door. “Can you bring Danny by after you pick him up? We’d like to greet him.” Patrick agrees, his good mood leaving him faster than he can blink as he jogs out to his car. He’s probably going to be late picking Danny up, but having to rush lets him take his mind off of the fact that his life is about to drastically change, possibly for the better but probably for the worse.

He manages to park and get to the arrivals gate right as Danny’s walking out. The smile he aims at Patrick is blinding and Patrick musters up a smile of his own and prays it looks convincing. This’ll be fine. Danny’s here and everything’s going to be fine. They’ve grown up and things don’t have to be like they were before. Patrick’s in a better place now. It’ll be different.

“Hey bro!” Danny practically shouts, pulling Patrick into a tight hug.

“Welcome to Chicago,” Patrick responds, actually managing to make his smile more real. Danny’s genuine excitement to see Patrick makes him want to be better, to make more of an effort to be friends with him. If Patrick’s really in a better place now, then he has to act like it. He can’t shut Danny out without giving him a chance. “How was the flight?” he asks, leading Danny back out to the car.

“Oh, it was fine. Packing up was the tiring part,” he starts. “I got to hang out with some of the guys for a little while, say goodbye. I’m really excited to meet the team, though!” Patrick has to admire his optimism. He doesn’t know what he would do if he got traded. He’d be devastated.

“Hey, coach asked me to bring you by to meet management,” Patrick says once they’re in the car. “Do you want to go now or go get settled in first?”

“Now, I guess,” Danny groans. “I’d rather get it over with and be able to just chill the rest of the night.” Patrick’s on the same page, so he starts heading toward the rink, listening to Danny chatter about all the things he’s excited to see in Chicago.

“We gotta go to the Bean! I’ve never been there!” he says excitedly. Patrick laughs.

“Prepare to be disappointed. It’s just a giant statue,” Patrick says. “The first picture’s a cool novelty and then it’s boring. The little skating rink’s pretty cool, though, if you go in the winter.”

“Sweet, we gotta check it out!” He goes off on more rabbit trails about how he’s always wanted to explore Chicago, and his chattering lasts them all the way until they get to the rink.

Patrick leads Danny to coach’s office and sends him inside to meet with Q and Stan. He shoots Patrick a nervous smile before he goes in, but Patrick knows he’ll come out best friends with both of them. It’s just how he is. Besides, Q and Stan are good guys and they’ll do what they can to make him comfortable. Patrick settles down on a chair in the hallway to wait, pulling out his phone and texting Jonny.

_He’s here. Meeting with mgmt now._

_Good_ , Jonny answers. _Want me to come by tonight? Bring dinner?_ It’s very tempting. He always wants Jonny around, and it would be nice to have a buffer. But he wants to keep Jonny away from Danny just a little longer.

 _Nah I think he just wants to settle in tonight. We’ll see you at Sharpy’s tomorrow._ Jonny just sends him a thumbs up emoji. Danny’s meeting doesn’t take long, giving Patrick just enough time to finish a couple levels of candy crush before Danny’s stepping back in the hallway.

“We’re glad to have you,” Q tells Danny as they walk out, clapping him on the shoulder.

“And I’m sure Kaner here is happy, too,” Stan says, following them into the hallway. Patrick forces a smile but doesn’t say anything as Stan and Q shake Danny’s hand, just waves goodbye as he leads the way back out of the rink.

“They seem pretty awesome,” Danny says through a yawn as Patrick drives them home.

“They are,” Patrick agrees. “Stan let me live with his family for my first year I was here.”

“Right, I forgot about that!” Danny says, brightening. “You must be pretty close to his family, then.”

“Not so much anymore,” Patrick admits. “We don’t really have time to spend together anymore, but sometimes his sons come to games and we still talk and stuff.” Patrick feels a pang of guilt, remembering how alone he felt before he moved in with Stan his rookie year. He was prepared to live in a hotel for as long as it took to make sure he could stay in the NHL, but if it hadn’t been for Stan’s family he doesn’t know what he would’ve done. He has to remind himself that that’s his role with Danny right now. Danny doesn’t have any friends here yet and he must be nervous about living in a new city, with a new team, not knowing anyone but his brother. “But, hey, there’s a barbeque at Sharpy’s tomorrow night. It’ll be a good way for you to meet the team,” he offers, feeling less awful about the idea. Danny seems cheered by it, too, asking Patrick questions about the team and their families the entire way home, all the way until they’re walking into the apartment. He asks more questions about Jonny than anyone else, which has Patrick side-eyeing him a little bit.

“What’s with the interest in Jonny?” Patrick can’t help asking. Danny’s face does something strange, like he’s trying to look innocent and trying not to grin at the same time.

“I just know you’re close to him, Patty,” he says. “I mean, you spent Christmas with him that one year.” Patrick groans, herding Danny toward the guest room.

“That was _one time_!” Danny just laughs at him, setting his bags down on the bed.

“I think I’m gonna hit the shower and maybe take a nap,” Danny says through another yawn. “Then dinner?” Patrick agrees, relieved that he can get a nap in, too, after not sleeping well the night before.

Danny’s still sleeping when Patrick wakes up, so he makes them dinner. Danny wanders out of his room right as Patrick’s finishing up and they watch a movie while they eat on the couch. They transition to video games when they’re done and it’s.. nice. It feels more like hanging out with a new teammate- a stranger- rather than his own brother, but honestly Patrick expected a lot worse. When he goes to sleep that night, it’s with the feeling that this might not be as bad as he expected.

🏒🏒🏒

The second they step into Sharpy’s back yard the next afternoon, the screeching starts.

"Uncle Peeks!" the two little blurs scream as they race toward him. He grins and crouches down, opening his arms to catch Maddie and Sadie as they barrell into him. They talk at him a mile a minute, telling him about their new dolls and tea set that he _has_ to come play with before Sadie falls silent. Maddie follows just seconds later, both of them looking up at Danny with wide eyes.

"Uncle Peeks," Maddie whispers, tugging on his sleeve, "that man looks like you." Patrick lets out a little chuckle and stands up, glancing at Danny's amused face.

"This is my brother Danny," he explains. "But I don't think we look alike at all."

"You do," Sadie says earnestly, eyes wide. It's Danny's turn to crouch down.

"He wishes he could look as good as me," Danny winks. "What are your names?" As the girls introduce themselves, Patrick sees Jonny and Sharpy approaching and, look, he’s seen Jonny in a henley more times that he can count, but _every time_ something settles warm and content in his stomach and all he wants to do is lean in and press his face against Jonny’s chest.

"Hey man, great to have you in Chicago," Jonny greets once the girls have scurried off. He holds out a hand for Danny to shake and then slings his arm around Patrick's shoulders. Patrick leans into it, tucks himself further under Jonny’s arm and presses up against his side. When he turns his head, Jonny just smiles down at him fondly

"Glad to be here, Cap," Danny says as Sharpy shakes his hand. Patrick groans internally. Cap? Seriously? "It's gonna be nice being on the good side of the dynamic duo for once." He raises an eyebrow at them and Patrick can see him taking in the way they’re pressed together, but it’s _fine_ , okay? This is just how they are and Danny’s going to have to get used to it.

"Eh, it's not that great," Sharpy laughs. "They look good on the outside, but if I have to break up one more bench fight, I might actually lose my mind."

"We're not _that_ bad," Patrick and Jonny say in unison. They really aren’t anymore. They hardly fight at all. Usually.

"Yes, you really are," Seabs says as he approaches, Duncs in tow. "But it gets results, so I guess we can't complain. Good to see you.” Patrick decides to leave the guys chatting with Danny, ducking out from under Jonny’s arm to go greet some of the other guys. Before he can step away, though, Jonny hooks a finger in the back of Patrick’s shirt, jerking him to a stop.

“Where are you going?” he asks, not releasing his grip. Patrick gestures at their teammates spilled all over the yard.

“I’m gonna say hi to my friends, dumbass.” Jonny lets him go with a roll of the eyes, and Patrick keeps one eye on the group as he ruffles Shawzy’s hair, knocks shoulders with Crow, high-fives Bicks. He makes sure not to stay around one guy for too long, hoping to avoid any and all mention of his brother. Danny’s here now, they can go talk to him themselves without forcing him to be caught up in the middle of it. Eventually, he makes his way to where Abby and some of the other wives are chatting near where the kids are playing and he stops to pull her into a hug.

“Hey there, Peeks,” Abby greets with a grin when he pulls away. He rolls his eyes, but honestly he really doesn’t mind the nickname anymore. He’ll never, _ever_ admit that to anyone for as long as he lives. “You must be excited about having your brother here now!” she says while he hugs Dayna. He tries not to cringe too obviously, but she must see something in his face because her eyes narrow and she studies him seriously for a second.

“The guys seem to like him,” he shrugs, looking over his shoulder. Sharpy, Duncs, and Seabs had walked away to man the grill, but more guys had come up to meet Danny. Jonny’s still with him, Patrick notes with a bit of annoyance. “He’ll fit right in. They’ll forget about me in no time.” He means for it to come out like a joke but it doesn’t land quite right and when he turns back around, he doesn’t like the way Abby’s looking at him.

“You know we love you best, Pat,” she says seriously.

“I know,” he agrees. He’s saved by Maddie and Sadie suddenly screaming his name, waving a tiara and a fairy wand in his direction with pleading eyes. “I’ll you’ll excuse me,” he says with a relieved grin, “I have some princesses in need of a Prince Charming.”

Maddie and Sadie, as always, greet him so enthusiastically that it’s impossible not to feel special. They sit him down, shoving the tiara and wand in his hands before picking up their dolls. Maddie directs most of their games with all the solemnity a 4 year old can muster while Sadie toddles around after her and it’s so cute that his good mood can’t even be popped when Danny comes and sits down next to him.

“This looks like fun,” he says, and Patrick tries to find the mockery in his voice. “Can I play?” Maddie narrows her eyes at him and looks to Patrick before reluctantly handing Danny a doll.

“You won’t be as fun as Uncle Peeks, but I guess you can play,” Maddie says gravely. Patrick feels a thrill of triumph that he’s not even embarrassed about. Maddie and Sadie are _awesome_ and it’s totally valid to be happy about being liked by them. He leans in to smack a kiss on each of their cheeks, sending them into fits of giggles while he ignores the odd look on Danny’s face.

Danny’s not very good at playing dolls. Patrick was the one that played house and dress-up with their sisters when they were younger until they grew out of it and started playing sports and picking up other hobbies. Danny’s an expert at teaching the girls’ street hockey, but he doesn’t know how to act like a prince rescuing a princess from a dragon. The girls spend so much time correcting him that they barely get 15 minutes of actual playtime in before Sharpy shouts across the yard that the food’s ready. Patrick’s obligated to finish up his duties as Prince Pufflepants before he can even think about leaving, but just as he’s about to excuse himself, he feels a tug on one of his curls.

“I got you a plate,” Jonny says from behind him. Patrick tilts his head back to shoot Jonny an upside down smile, leaning back far enough for his head to rest on Jonny’s shoulder for a second. He doesn’t miss the smirk Danny shoots them.

“A feast fit for a king?” Patrick checks. “Or a prince at the _very_ least.”

“Don’t worry, your highness,” Jonny assures him with a smirk. “I’ve got you taken care of.”

“Lead the way, my most loyal knight.” Patrick bows, both because it sends the girls into fits of giggles and because it makes Jonny roll his eyes. When he straightens back up, Jonny holds out an arm like he’s an actual knight about to escort Patrick across the yard, and when Patrick slips his hand in the crook of Jonny’s arm, he blames the warmth blooming across his face on the sun. He hears Danny sniggering behind them as they make their way across the yard to the picnic tables, but he pays no mind.

“So what do we call you?” Shawzy asks Danny once everyone’s smushed together at the tables. “Patrick’s already ‘Kaner’, so we have to call you something else.”

“In school my teammates called me Danno,” Danny shrugs. “Patty got first dibs on Kaner since he’s like 5 minutes older. They called me Kaner in Arizona, but I guess there can only be one now,” he says with a long-suffering sigh. The guys laugh, falling into an easy conversation, asking Danny a million questions which he seems thrilled to answer. Always the life of the party. Patrick tunes it out, reaching a fork over to spear a piece of cauliflower off of Jonny’s plate. Jonny _hates_ cauliflower, but for some reason he always takes it like he’s going to pretend to eat it or something. Jonny, in turn, scoops the blueberries out of Patrick’s fruit salad just as Danny says, “So, Tazer, you’re from Winnipeg? Oh, man, I love it there.”

“Yeah,” Jonny says brightly, and Patrick absolutely doesn’t resent the way his face lights up. “That’s home. Have you been there outside of games?”

“Yeah, some of my buddies and I took a trip there once. We spent a lot of time at The Forks.” And honestly, what the fuck?

“Who _vacations in Winterpeg_?” he accidentally says out loud, earning a _look_ from Jonny. Whatever, he’s been to Winnipeg with Jonny, and sure there’s some cool stuff there, but it’s nowhere Patrick would go on _vacation_.

“The Forks is cool,” Jonny agrees, like Patrick hadn’t said anything. “The riverwalk is my favorite. And the orchard.” Patrick tunes out again, silently fuming over the easy way Jonny and Danny have already started _bonding_. He doesn’t want to sit here and listen to them… chatter, but he can’t just pick up his plate and walk away. That would be conspicuous. Unless… he takes a subtle glance around and sees an empty space down the table next to Oduya. He doesn’t have the chance to talk to him much outside of the rink, and if this Jonny wants to talk to Danny, then maybe Johnny will entertain him.

Jonny cuts off mid sentence when Patrick stands up, but he doesn’t wait around to be questioned. It’s not _weird_ for him to be mingling with his other teammates, just because he usually sticks pretty close to Jonny. He ignores the raised eyebrows when he sits down at the other end of the table, jumping head first into their conversation.

He manages to skirt around Jonny for the rest of the night without really knowing why he wants to. He’s not being obvious about it or anything; he partners up with Crow for a cornhole tournament and then gets into a game of flag football for a while. He doubts anyone even notices. He purposely loses track of where Danny is. By the time the sun’s sinking over the horizon and the boys get the bonfire started, Patrick’s feeling a little silly about how he’s acting. He scans the back yard for Jonny, catching sight of him sprawled out in a lawn chair near the fire, and heads over to him. He considers throwing himself down on top of Jonny, but lawn chairs are flimsy at best and the season’s barely started. He doesn’t want to injure them both. Jonny’s man-spreading, as usual, and Patrick doesn’t even think before he throws himself down between Jonny’s legs. It’s not until he’s already down there that he realizes how awkward this could be, but it’s too late now. He doesn’t act like anything’s out of the ordinary and Jonny, for his part, just moves to accommodate him. When Patrick wraps one arm around the back of Jonny’s calf and lays his head against Jonny’s thigh- go big or go home- Jonny just slips a hand into Patrick’s curls and lets it rest there. He can’t see Jonny’s face, and neither one of them say anything, but he can feel how relaxed Jonny is and Patrick finds himself smiling at nothing, watching the bonfire’s flames flickering in the darkness.

“Ah, young love,” Sharpy laughs, dragging a chair up to sit beside them. “I remember when Abby used to-”

“Fuck off,” they both say lazily. Patrick’s eyes are drooping closed already and Jonny idly scratching his fingers through Patrick’s hair isn’t helping. Sharpy huffs a laugh and changes the subject, talking to Jonny about something to do with dogs. Patrick can’t even bring himself to move when someone breaks out the s’mores, although he seriously considers it. After an hour or so he gets up to leave. His ass is numb, his hair’s a mess, and he’s _happy_.

🏒🏒🏒

Of course, with how easy Danny meeting the team had gone over, Patrick should’ve expected things to go to shit. Jonny barely even glances at Patrick when he comes in the locker room the next morning, instead heading right to Danny, showing him where his stall is, where the equipment rooms are, where to sharpen his skates. That’s usually stuff the trainers do, and besides that, he and Jonny have a _routine_ that Jonny’s blatantly ignoring. Patrick feels a pit open up in the bottom of his stomach.

He’s irritated during practice, quietly going through drills while watching Jonny stick close to Danny’s side as he explains plays and line formations. Jonny’s a fantastic captain- the best in the league- but he doesn’t normally go _this_ out of his way for the new guys. Danny cracks jokes that have everyone laughing and Jonny even throws an arm around his shoulders like they’re lifelong friends. He hasn’t even looked at Patrick. It makes Patrick’s chest hurt but he keeps to himself, determined to keep his head down, to not make a scene for such a stupid reason. He focuses on his hockey, trying to make _himself_ better. If he can be better, if he can remind everyone that he’s done his best to earn his place on this team, to not let them down, maybe they’ll want to keep him around. Those thoughts are swirling around in his head when someone barrels into him from behind and wraps him into a tight hug. Patrick knows it’s Sharpy without having to look.

“Aww, Peeks, what’s wrong? You’re awfully quiet today,” Sharpy chirps, grinning at him. Patrick struggles out of Sharpy grip and pushes him away. “All that time snuggling with your boy toy last night wear you out?”

“Shut up, Sharpy,” Patrick snipes back, but he can’t deny he’s smiling a bit just at the memory of Jonny’s hand in his hair. That is, until he hears Jonny’s stupid Canandian robot laugh and looks over to see him with his head thrown back, laughing with Danny. Again. Patrick feels his face fall but he forces it into a more neutral expression.

“What, are you afraid our illustrious captain is replacing you with the funnier version of you?” Sharpy jokes, but the teasing smile falls off his face when Patrick flinches and avoids eye contact. “Seriously, Kaner?” Patrick just shrugs.

“He hasn’t said anything to me all morning,” Patrick mumbles, flushing, feeling like a teenage girl with a crush. “He hasn’t even looked at me. It’s like I’ve suddenly stopped existing. He’s supposed to be my best friend but all he wants to do is talk to my brother.” Patrick would normally keep this to himself, but he had drunkenly expressed his feelings about Jonny to Sharpy one night and, surprisingly, Sharpy had never made fun of him for it. Well, not much. Not as much as usual, in any case.

“You know he’s just trying to make Danno feel welcome,” Sharpy says. Patrick doesn’t respond. “Patrick,” Sharpy starts, looking at him like he’s an idiot, and Patrick snaps to attention. Sharpy never calls him ‘Patrick’ unless he’s being very serious. “Have you considered that Jonny’s being so nice to _your brother_ because-” Sharpy’s cut off by coach’s whistle, signaling the end of practice. Patrick doesn’t wait around for Sharpy to finish, just skates over to the bench to head back to the locker room. He thinks Sharpy’s going to force the issue once they’re back in the locker room, but he just gives Patrick the long-suffering _you’re-an-idiot_ look again and goes to shower.

Patrick goes through the motions of getting ready to go, resolutely not moping at his locker when someone sits down next to him close enough to knock their knees together. It’s Jonny, because of course it is, sitting down in Shawzy’s empty stall while Patrick’s just finishing up buttoning his shirt. When he looks at Jonny, he’s faced with the full force of his concerned eyes and he feels a stab of guilt.

“Hey,” Patrick says tiredly, going for a reassuring smile. Jonny was just being a good captain today; he wasn’t snubbing Patrick on purpose. And like it or not, Danny’s part of the team now so Patrick’s just going to have to learn to live with it.

“You need to work on your faceoffs,” Jonny says. The smile falls right off of Patrick’s face, and with it goes any feelings of forgiveness. He knows, okay? He _knows_. This is what he and Jonny _do_. They don’t talk about feelings. They argue and pick at each other until they’re distracted enough that whatever’s bothering them feels less like a big deal than it did before. But that’s not what Patrick needs right now. He knows there’s no way for Jonny to know that, but the first thing out of Jonny’s mouth is criticism and Patrick goes from reconciliation to defeat in the span of a second.

“Okay,” is all he can manage to say, shoulders slumping, before he turns to shove the rest of his gear into his bag. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Jonny tense, can sense his confusion. At this moment, Patrick doesn’t care. He just wants to get _out of here_. He catches Danny’s eye across the room to see if he’s ready to go and stands up before grabbing his bag. He’s not expecting Jonny’s hand to shoot out and catch him by the wrist.

“Pat?” Jonny’s gaze is soft. Questioning. Patrick sighs, the fight going out of him at once, and he attempts another smile that seems to make Jonny even more concerned. It’s not Jonny’s fault, he reminds himself, and he shouldn’t be taking his own insecurities out on his best friend.

“I’m good, Jon,” he replies, equally as soft. “I’m just tired.” Looking down at Jonny, he has the strangest urge to lean down and kiss him. It’s so strong that, for a second, he can’t think of a reason why he shouldn’t. He doesn’t think Jonny would be upset; maybe he doesn’t feel the same, but he would let Patrick down gently. And then someone drops something, loud and clattering, and he remembers where he is. He pulls out of Jonny’s grasp and takes a quick look around to make sure no one’s watching before he runs a hand through Jonny’s hair, letting it settle on the back of Jonny’s neck. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jonny agrees softly. His lip quirks up at the corner and Patrick has to convince himself to drag his hand away, eyes lingering even as he turns away. Jonny lets him go, but Patrick feels his eyes on him all the way out of the locker room. Danny meets him at the door, raising a questioning eyebrow that Patrick pretends not to see. That was a little weird, even for their standards, and he doesn’t really know how to begin to explain it. He manages to keep Danny talking about other things on the drive home, avoiding the questions he knows are coming until they’re already back at the apartment.

“What was that about?” Danny finally asks, cornering Patrick in the kitchen while he’s making lunch.

“What was what about?” Patrick asks tonelessly. Playing dumb isn’t going to help, but he’s not about to make this conversation any easier to start.

“Everything okay with Tazer?” Danny switches tactics. Patrick feels the smile slip onto his face against his will.

“Yeah,” he laughs, “everything’s okay with Tazer.” Danny hums, his disbelief shining through. “When’s the rest of your stuff supposed to get here?” It’s not the smoothest subject change, but Danny lets it go, only occasionally giving him the side-eye. Patrick pretends not to notice.

They don’t do much the rest of the night. Danny didn’t have much time to pack before he was rushed off to Chicago, so his unpacking is long finished until the truck gets here with the rest of it. They both take naps after lunch and then spend the evening playing video games. Their mom calls right before bed to chat for a little while and make sure Danny’s getting settled in okay. A normal night. Still, Patrick’s relieved beyond words when he’s able to escape to his bedroom, locking the door behind him. This space is still _his_ , even if he has to share everything else. 

🏒🏒🏒

The next morning, Patrick and Danny are sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast when Patrick’s phone chimes. His spirits lift when he sees that it’s a text from Jonny asking if he wants to get lunch today after practice. He sends back a _yes_ immediately, cheered by the idea that their normal routine doesn’t have to change. They don’t _always_ spend the afternoon together on game days, but they do more often than not. Patrick’s not overly superstitious, but hockey players do like their routines and it’s probably best not to shake them up.

“From Tazer?” Danny asks, startling Patrick. He had forgotten Danny was there. He realizes he’s been smiling down at his phone and flushes, setting it facedown on the table.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “Are you okay on your own for lunch today?” He feels like he has to ask, even though he really, really doesn’t want to bring Danny out with him and Jonny. He ignores the smirk directed back at him.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Danny agrees. “I’ve been thinking about maybe spending some time with Shawzy and Saader, so I might try to hang with them today.” Patrick breathes out a relieved sigh. It’s stupid to be possessive of his friends, but Patrick’s glad that those are the guys Danny’s choosing to hang out with first, instead of Duncs or Seabs or Crow or Sharpy. He can keep them away for a little while longer.

Patrick’s in a good mood going into practice. He joins Sharpy in chirping Jonny and even gets into a wrestling match with Shawzy that, as usual, ends up with Patrick in a headlock while Shawzy cackles at him. Danny’s looking at him like he’s insane, not used to seeing Patrick being playful with anyone over the age of four, but everyone else just rolls their eyes fondly. Sharpy even looks a little relieved, smiling at him and pulling him into another headlock that Patrick has to fight his way out of. They run line drills to prepare for their game that night and he and Jonny are on _fire_ , passes connecting like the puck is on a string. Patrick can’t help but celebrate every shot they make a little harder than necessary, especially since it has Jonny grinning back at him with twinkling eyes. Crow starts shooting stray pucks at them every time they score, and Patrick doesn’t stop the laughter that bubbles out of him.

Back in the locker room he’s sitting in his stall smiling down at his socked feet, thinking about lunch with Jonny and a nice long nap before they take on the Habs. A perfect afternoon. He grins up at Jonny when he approaches and his heart flutters at the matching grin that lights up Jonny’s face.

“Great job today, Peeks,” Jonny starts, and Patrick’s already relieved that today’s going better than yesterday. He holds a hand out for a fist bump and pretends not to notice the way Jonny’s eyes catch on his dimple. “You guys ready to head to lunch?” The smile freezes on Patrick’s face and he looks down to finish putting his shoes on.

“Who else is going?” Patrick asks, faux-casually. When he raises his head, Jonny just blinks back at him, confused.

“Um, I thought… Danny?” Jonny responds hesitantly, like a question. Patrick fights to keep his smile, but can’t stop his shoulders from slumping. He should’ve known better. It seemed like it was going to be such a good day; he should’ve known it wouldn’t last. This was just Jonny being a good captain, trying to get to know Danny better. It had nothing to do with wanting to hang out with Patrick.

“Right,” he says flatly.

“Is that okay?” Jonny asks. Patrick has the sense he’s giving him emotional whiplash. He’s giving _himself_ emotional whiplash.

“Yeah,” he says, turning away from Jonny and walking over to where Danny’s talking to Seabs.

“Did you already make plans for lunch?” he asks quietly, ignoring the feeling of Jonny’s eyes on him.

“No, why?” Danny shoots a glance over Patrick’s shoulder and raises an eyebrow at whatever he sees.

“Can you come to lunch with me and Tazer?” Danny’s eyes dart back to Patrick and narrow.

“Is he being an ass?”

“What? No,” Patrick sighs, glancing over to where Seabs is pretending not to listen. “He just wants to get to know you better.”

“Oh, then yeah, for sure,” Danny agrees happily, enthusiastically even. “Just let me finish getting dressed.” Patrick weighs his options for a second before he decides…

“Can you ride with Tazer? I think I need to stop and get gas so I’ll just head out now.” It’s a lie, but he’s feeling just petty enough to want to just leave Danny here.

“Yeah, ‘course,” Danny agrees. Patrick hardly waits for the response before he goes to grab his bag from his stall. Jonny’s still standing there blocking his way, stopping him with a hand on the chest when Patrick tries to step around him.

“Move, Tazer,” he says, feeling guilty even as it comes out of his mouth. Patrick hardly ever calls Jonny ‘Tazer’ anymore. It makes him feel like there’s too much distance between them. Using it now feels like a petty way to put that space back, and he doesn’t feel good about it, especially as he sees the way Jonny’s eyes narrow.

“Patrick,” he says, quietly enough to not be overheard. “Am I doing something wrong, here? You keep getting upset with me and I don’t know why.” Patrick brings his hands up to scrub roughly at his face, and lets out a sigh as he drops them again.

“No, Jon, it’s not your fault,” Patrick mumbles. “I’m being ridiculous.” He’s acting without thinking, letting his emotions get the better of him. That’s not him. He’s always held everything so close to the chest, but the past few years in Chicago have cracked him open. He doesn’t know how to manage this without building the walls back up, shutting everyone out.

“You know you can talk to me about anything,” Jonny says, earnest. Patrick nods.

“I know.” He’s almost certain that if he told Jonny how he was feeling, that Jonny would do anything he could to make it better. The thought warms him as much as it makes him feel sick. Jonny’s got his back; they’ve been through too much together for Patrick to doubt that. But Patrick doesn’t want to be the reason for any tension in the locker room. The things that Danny did when they were younger are basically ancient history and it wouldn’t do any of them any good for Patrick to bring it up now.

The thought doesn’t make him feel any better.

“Look, I gotta go get gas so Danny’s gonna ride with you, okay?” Jonny’s not happy about the subject change, he makes that clear, but thankfully he lets it go. Patrick wants to offer an olive branch. “We can go to Joey’s?” Joey’s is Jonny’s favorite game day lunch spot and he’s relieved when Jonny gives him a small smile and a nod, accepting it as the apology it’s meant to be.

Patrick actually does stop and get gas on the way- just so he feels better about not lying- but he still manages to get there before Jonny and Danny. He gets them a table and only has to wait a few minutes before they walk in. Patrick’s surprised when Jonny sits next to him instead of across from him, slinging an arm around the back of the booth behind Patrick’s head. It’s not anything new, but Danny fails to hide a smile as he sits. Patrick doesn’t really listen as they continue whatever conversation they were having before, instead looking over the menu even though he knows he’s going to get the same thing he gets every time they eat here. He sets the menu down and lets his mind wander, eyes roaming over the restaurant, and doesn’t even notice when the waitress comes to take their order. He only snaps out of his thoughts when Jonny grabs one of his curls and pulls.

“Hey!” he says, reaching back to slap Jonny’s hand away from his hair. Jonny just rolls his eyes and turns back to the waitress, ordering Patrick’s usual for him. Once his brain comes back online, Patrick allows a small smile and nudges Jonny in thanks. If he leaves his shoulder pressed against Jonny’s side, it’s not really a big deal. This is a thing that normal friends do. Jonny’s arm slides off the booth and around his shoulders as he continues his conversation with Danny. It’s familiar and comforting and Patrick relaxes into it, glad that Jonny doesn’t move away until their food comes out. 

Danny sends Patrick pointed looks while they eat, but Patrick chooses to ignore them. Patrick’s not stupid; he knows exactly what Danny thinks is going on, but he’s wrong. Well, he’s wrong about half of it. Patrick may be in love with Jonny, but nothing’s ever going to come of it. He knows Jonny cares about him, but there’s no way that Jonny loves him. Still, he lets his leg press against Jonny’s under the table where Danny can’t see, and smiles to himself when Jonny presses back.

“You think you’re ready for the game tonight?” Jonny asks Danny as they’re finishing up their food. Danny shoots him a grin.

“It’s hockey. I’m always ready,” he replies, cocky. “Maybe not as ready as Patty, here. He’s always been a little better at hockey than me.” Patrick’s about to shoot back a _well you’ve always been better than me at everything else_ but Jonny cuts him off. 

“Nobody’s better at hockey than Patrick,” Jonny says with such quiet conviction that Patrick’s knocked speechless. His eyes catch and hold with Jonny’s and he knows he must look some mixture of shocked and embarrassed. He hears Danny make some kind of affirmative noise but he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from the surety in Jonny’s gaze. Objectively he knows that he plays good hockey. He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t. But to hear Jonny say it like he would say the sky is blue or ice is slippery startles Patrick. They don’t say things like that to each other often, usually hiding their compliments in chirps. They hardly ever say things like this face to face.

Jonny’s always known Patrick better than anyone else ever has and Patrick knows he wasn’t fooling Jonny into thinking everything’s okay, but he’s still touched that Jonny’s trying so hard to help. He doesn’t feel like he deserves it. He doesn’t know how long they sit there looking at each other, but when he finally tears his eyes away, Danny’s got one elbow propped up on the table with his chin resting in his hand, just watching them like they’re some kind of entertainment.

“We should get going,” Patrick blurts before anyone can comment on the weird tension in the air. “Naps.” They both agree, and Jonny waves for the check. They usually take turns paying and it’s Jonny’s turn, but Danny seems to think it means something more than that if the look he shoots Patrick is any indication. When they finally slide out of the booth Patrick swears he feels the ghost of Jonny’s fingers trailing across the back of his hand, but he dismisses it when Jonny starts walking away without looking back.

The rest of the afternoon passes in pre-game naps and diet-plan-approved snacks before they have to head back to the rink. Patrick has his headphones in when he walks in the locker room, Danny at his heels, and he’s halfway across the room before he sees it. The jersey in his stall looks just like normal, except that it’s not. Instead of just his name, it reads _P. Kane 88_. His gaze swings across the room to Danny’s stall, and he feels like he can’t breathe when he sees _D. Kane 86_ staring back at him. He rips his headphones out of his ears just in time to hear Danny turn to him and say, “Oh, sweet, dude! I told them I didn’t care what number I got. Looks like they’re really pushing the twin angle.” He grins, but Patrick turns away before anyone can see the way his face is flushing with anger.

He didn’t even think about this happening. He didn’t think he would be possessive over his own _last name_ , or his number, but here he is ready to throw up or throw something. He turns the jersey backward in his stall so he doesn’t have to look at it and puts his headphones back in, drowning everything out until it’s time to go on the ice.

He’s unbalanced from the beginning, tripping over himself and flubbing easy passes. The more frustrated he gets, the worse he plays. It’s enough for Jonny to call him out on it, screaming at Patrick after their shifts. He’s not even really listening to what Jonny’s saying, just hearing his tone is enough to get Patrick’s blood boiling. Usually it motivates him. Their arguments on the bench are notorious and Patrick’s usually able to give back as good as Jonny gives it. But today he’s tired and frustrated and angry and all he wants is for Jonny to _shut up_.

He catches sight of Danny’s jersey skating past on the ice and he cuts Jonny off mid-word, standing up and moving down to the other side of the bench. Jonny doesn’t follow him, but he stares down the bench at him in shock. Patrick’s never done that before, walked away from him in the middle of an argument. Jonny doesn’t call him on it, though: thoroughly distracted when, in the final minutes of the second period Steeger somehow gets a lucky bounce and manages to get one past Price. The mood in the locker room during the second intermission is grim, knowing their track record with keeping a lead in the third isn’t good.

Heading out onto the ice for the third, he hears Jonny mutter something like _what the fuck is wrong with you_ and Patrick is so close to just _snapping_. He grinds his teeth and tries to keep himself from punching Jonny square on the mouth. But Jonny keeps picking and picking and picking at Patrick until he just can’t _stand it,_ especially when only a few minutes into the third, Danny scores on a breakaway and Jonny smiles like the sun coming out of the clouds. Patrick forces a smile, fist bumping Danny as he skates by the bench, congratulating him on his first goal as a Hawk in his first game as a Hawk. Then he sags back down, exhausted. This is a shitshow.

They win the game with Crow getting the shutout, which means it’s basically required for the team to go out and celebrate. Patrick thinks about just going home, but he wants to celebrate with Crow, even if Patrick didn’t do much helping on the front end of things. He knows Danny’s going to be flooded with alcohol for his goal and he doesn’t know if he’s ready for that, but what kind of brother would he be if he didn’t show up?

Jonny tries to catch his eye in the locker room. It’s normal after their bench fights for them to talk it out after the game; it’s the only way they’ve managed to make it this far and stay friends. Patrick is _so_ not in the mood right now. He gets ready to go quickly, making sure he’s always talking to someone even though it’s the opposite of what he wants to be doing right now. When Sharpy levels a look at him and asks, “What are you doing, Kaner?” Patrick decides it’s time to go. He tells Danny to catch a cab to the bar and sneaks out of the locker room while Jonny’s distracted talking to Q.

He goes home and drops off his car before calling an Uber to take him to the address that Danny texts him. He groans when he sees where they’re going. It’s a bar, but it’s a bar with a dance floor and an obnoxious jukebox that the boys go to when they want to pick up rather than wind down. 

When he finally gets there he sticks close to Sharpy’s side, making sure to squeeze himself between Sharpy and Seabs at the table so there’s no room for anyone else- namely, Jonny- to slide in. He’d managed to hide from Jonny’s laser eyes when he snuck in and for the first time in his life, Patrick’s glad he’s small because it’s easier for him to hide. Sharpy eyes him when he sits down, but Patrick just shrugs him off. He takes the beer from the first round that’s being passed around and nurses it, not really feeling like getting drunk tonight, and listens to the conversations around him. Seabs, Duncs, and Sharpy are comparing baby pictures while some of the younger, single guys are eyeing girls around the room and daring each other to go talk to them. Danny’s at another table, a row of shots in front of him, saying something to Shawzy and Saader that involves a lot of hand waving. He accidentally catches Jonny’s eye and they scowl at each other before Patrick rolls his eyes and goes back to listening to the conversation around him.

“Trouble in paradise?” Duncs teases, tilting his head significantly towards Jonny. Patrick rolls his eyes again and doesn’t dignify that with a response. He’s aware they noticed him avoiding Jonny in the locker room, and now here. It’s not like he and Jonny are always attached at the hip when they go out… they just typically stick kinda close to each other.

“Really though, you guys good?” Seabs asks, more seriously. “He was going a little hard on you tonight.” Patrick rubs his eyes tiredly and sighs.

“It’s just exhausting sometimes having to live up to his ridiculously high standards,” Patrick snaps before he can stop himself. “Just didn’t really feel like getting screamed at all night when I knew I wasn’t good enough already.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he wants to snatch them back. That was absolutely the wrong thing to say. There’s a heavy silence and Patrick closes his eyes and tips his head back, waiting for the inevitable. He can practically feel the silent conversation happening over his head and he doesn’t even bother to look when he feels them all moving away from him.

He’s expecting it when someone sits down next to him, a hand landing on his thigh, and he knows it’s Jonny without having to look. Patrick opens his eyes, gaze flickering unseeingly around the bar, waiting for him to say something. It takes a few minutes for Patrick to reach the point where he can’t handle the silence and the feeling of Jonny’s eyes burning holes into the side of his head and he finally makes eye contact. That seems to be what Jonny was waiting for.

“I’m sorry I was a dick to you,” Jonny says. That’s… not what Patrick was expecting. He lets out a heavy sigh and drops his hands from the table down into his lap, hooking a finger in Jonny’s bracelet just for something to do. He doesn’t want to have this conversation ever, let alone in the middle of a bar with their teammates around.

“You weren’t,” Patrick concedes. “You weren’t doing anything you wouldn’t normally do.” He and Jonny argue and bicker and push each other. It’s what they _do_. Most of the time it’s a non-issue, and win or lose he and Jonny work it out before even leaving the rink. Patrick even knows that Jonny was probably trying to pull him out of the weird mood he’s been in with his usual tough love, but “I just haven’t been… feeling like myself the past couple of days.”

“What’s going on?” Jonny asks, brow furrowed. Patrick shrugs and looks away, startled when Jonny’s hand comes up to grip his jaw and turn his head back to face him. “Pat, I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”

“I don’t need you to help me,” Patrick snaps, a spark of anger flaring up in him. “I’m an adult, Jonathan. I’ve been taking care of myself for years.” They’re locked in a stalemate, then, neither one of them wanting to back down, but knowing the other won’t give in. Eventually Jonny sighs and drops his hand, leaning back against his chair and facing forward. “I’m sorry,” Patrick says quietly, and he means it. He’s sorry he’s a bad friend. He’s sorry he’s making Jonny worry about him. He’s sorry he can’t just let go of the past and be happy.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Patrick.” Jonny’s exasperated, running a tired hand across his face. “Just tell me what’s got you so messed up.”

Patrick can’t help but flinch at that; Jonny thinks he’s _messed up_. Patrick _knows_ that’s not what he meant, but something inside of him latches onto the words, can’t seem to let them go. Jonny notices the reaction, opening his mouth to say something but Patrick cuts him off. “I’m going home,” he says, pushing away from the table and hurrying his way to the door without bothering to say goodbye to anyone. He glances back one last time before he walks out but Jonny hasn’t moved, his mouth a grim line and his eyes trained on Patrick. Because he has _some_ luck, there’s a cab waiting right outside the bar so he doesn’t have to wait to make his escape and risk anyone deciding to come after him. His stomach is churning the whole ride home, not used to fighting with Jonny about things that really matter. He wants to wash the whole night away and forget it happened.

He takes a quick shower when he gets home and he’s just changing into his pajamas when there’s a pounding on the apartment door. He’d locked the door behind him out of habit, and Danny’s probably either too drunk to remember where he put his key, or just wants to be annoying and make Patrick open the door for him. But when he unlocks the door and swings it open, it’s not Danny pushing past him, but Jonny.

“We’re not going to sleep while we’re mad at each other,” Jonny says, walking into the living room like he just expects Patrick to follow. Which, Patrick does, because it’s _his apartment._

“Speak for yourself,” he argues. “I can be pissed at you if I want.” Jonny turns and levels him with a flat stare.

“Okay, but _why_ are you pissed at me?” he asks. “Is it because I yelled at you on the ice, or is it because I actually give a shit about you and I’m making you talk about your feelings?”

“A little of both, now that you mention it,” Patrick snaps back. “Why do you think you have to _fix_ me all the time? What, I can’t do anything right on the ice, and now you feel like you have to fix me as a person, too?”

“Why is it so bad that I actually want you to be happy?” Jonny’s voice is rising and Patrick feels his own hackles raise even more in response. “I don’t need to _fix_ you because there’s nothing wrong with you! But you’re obviously upset and I don’t know why you won’t let me help!”

“Because you _can’t help_!” he shouts. “There is not a single thing you can do about this!”

“About what?” Jonny’s hisses.

“Just fucking _drop it_ , Tazer!” Jonny’s flinch would’ve been almost imperceptible if Patrick hadn’t been watching for it. Hadn’t been intending it. Jonny stalks forward until he’s an arm’s length away from Patrick.

“Don’t fucking do that,” he says lowly. “Don’t push me away like that. You and I have been through too much shit together for you to do that to me.” Patrick sucks in a sharp breath before it turns into a sob. He remembers the fear that day when Jonny didn’t show up to practice on time, when coach got the call that Jonny had been in a car accident. He remembers finding out about Jonny’s concussion that he had been _hiding the symptoms of._ He’d accepted the pressure management put on him to lead the team into the playoffs, went to Jonny’s apartment every day just to lay in the dark and talk to him, feed him, keep them both from going insane.

It wasn’t good enough. _He_ wasn’t good enough. He buckled under the pressure of trying to center Jonny’s line, trying to lead the team without Jonny to help hold him up. The Hawks went out in the first round and Patrick had to watch Danny’s team make it all the way to the finals. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if he’d had to watch Danny lift the cup.

And then Madison happened. Patrick disappeared without a word to anyone, headed to Wisconsin with some buddies, got blackout drunk and made an ass of himself trying to drown out the team, the media, his family, all the voices in his head telling him what he should’ve done differently, what went wrong, why he wasn’t good enough.

Jonny had been pissed when he showed up at Patrick’s door, but he listened. He didn’t lecture or argue, he sat Patrick down and _listened_ and that was the changing point. Patrick came out of that conversation with a determination to be a better person, to learn from his mistakes and never make them again.

That was the day he realized he was in love with Jonny.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Jonny steps forward, pulling Patrick into his arms and smoothing a hand down his back. “It’s okay, Pat. I’ve got you, okay? I always got you.” Patrick clings to him, trying to get himself under control. Jonny’s solid: a familiar presence that Patrick can lean on, and it helps. He doesn’t let go for a long time, would probably have clung to Jonny for hours, reminding himself that this is real, that Jonny’s okay- they’re _both_ okay- if it weren’t for the door banging open. He jumps away from Jonny and turns to see Danny standing in the doorway looking at them with wide eyes. He looks _thrilled_ for a second until he takes a closer look through bleary, half-drunk eyes and sees that Patrick’s been crying.

“Um, I can…” he trails off, pointing over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jonny says. “I was just leaving.” Danny looks skeptical, eyes flickering down to where Jonny’s hand has landed on the small of Patrick’s back, but Jonny turns back to Patrick. “We’re good, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Patrick agrees quietly, mustering up a small smile that even feels a little genuine. He’s… better. Part of him wants to ask Jonny to stay for a little while but it’s late and they just played a game. Jonny’s probably too exhausted to coddle him all night. “Thanks for coming after me.”

“Always,” Jonny grins, bringing his hand up to squeeze the nape of Patrick’s neck once before he steps away. “Goodnight.” He heads toward the door and Patrick and Danny both watch him go.

“Everything alright?” Danny asks with a raised eyebrow once he’s gone. “Looked like things got a little intense between you two tonight.”

“That’s just how we are,” Patrick shrugs. “You’ll get used to it. We argue a lot.” Danny’s other eyebrow shoots up at that.

“But you’re…” he starts. “He doesn’t… I mean, he treats you well, right?” Patrick can’t help the chuckle that slips out. He’s a little amused that Danny’s checking in to make sure what he thinks is Patrick’s boyfriend is treating him well. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t just _tell_ Danny that Jonny isn’t his boyfriend, but maybe he gets a little bit of a thrill with pretending.

“Yeah, he’s the best,” Patrick says. “He’d do anything for me.” As he says it, Patrick realizes how true it is. He can see how much Jonny cares about him in almost everything that he does, even down to knowing his normal order at restaurants, or going out of his way to get Patrick’s favorite soup when he’s sick, or, Patrick’s secret favorite, when he brings them both coffee on the days when they have early morning flights. Danny smiles, sudden and bright, as he pulls Patrick into a quick hug.

“I’m happy for you,” he says when he pulls back. “You’ve got a good thing going here, huh? And if there’s anything you want to tell me, _anything at all_ , just know I’ll support you no matter what.” Patrick’s emotions are already running high, but he’s touched by Danny’s acceptance of Patrick’s not-boyfriend. He’s spent so long avoiding Danny that he feels like he doesn’t really know him at all anymore, doesn’t know the kind of person he is, but his easy acceptance of Patrick’s sexuality is so much more than he could’ve hoped. Maybe Patrick’s been focusing too much on who he used to be and not enough on who he is now.

“Thanks, man,” he says, returning Danny’s grin hesitantly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

🏒🏒🏒

Patrick wakes up the next morning a little drained and feeling guilty for the way he snapped at Jonny. They ended on a high note, but he wants to find a way to apologize. He has the idea while he’s cooking breakfast, to make a pit stop to pick something up for Jonny, and when Danny comes out to eat Patrick asks him if they can leave a little early to head to practice. He agrees easily, and Patrick’s pretty relieved that he doesn’t ask why. He’s obviously confused when they pull up in front of Jonny’s favorite juice bar near the rink, but he follows Patrick inside silently. Danny orders first but hangs around while Patrick orders, making a face when Patrick asks for the awful kale concoction along with his own order of a simple banana smoothie.

“What even is that?” Danny asks, looking suspiciously at the kale drink once they’re back in the car.

“I don’t even know. It’s disgusting,” Patrick laughs as he takes a sip of perfectly delicious banana heaven.

“Then why did you order it?” He pops the lid off and takes a sniff of the green liquid before making a gagging sound.

“It’s for Jonny,” Patrick explains, keeping his eyes firmly on the road.

“Gotcha,” Danny says mildly, trying and failing to hide his smile. Patrick acts like he doesn’t notice. Jonny does nice things for Patrick all the time, Patrick can reciprocate when he wants. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

When they walk into the locker room, Jonny’s eyes lock onto Patrick immediately, warily, like he’s not sure how Patrick’s going to react to him. He makes his way over to Jonny’s stall and holds out the drink like a peace offering. “Sorry I’m being weird,” he says quietly so only Jonny can hear, eyes on the floor. “Thanks for not letting me be stupid.” Instead of taking the drink, Jonny reaches up and hooks his fingers in Patrick’s collar, pulling him into a hug. Patrick freezes for a fraction of a second- they don’t normally do this here, in the locker room where people can see- but it’s instinct for him to relax into Jonny’s touch. The hug doesn’t linger long, but when Patrick pulls away it’s with the feeling that everyone in the room is pointedly looking away from them.

“Thanks,” Jonny says, finally taking the drink from Patrick’s hand. Patrick can only blink at him for a moment before shakes himself out of it and steps away to his stall. He thinks he should feel lighter now, now that he’s apologized, but there’s a heaviness in him that he can’t shake; a feeling that something’s wrong, but he has no idea how to fix it. That feeling follows him into practice. He feels unbalanced, just like he was during the game: unable to stay on his feet, fumbling the puck, missing easy shots. When the whistle blows and they’re dismissed, Patrick breathes a sigh of relief. They have the night off before they leave for Washington and he fully intends to go hide out in his room all night. Maybe he just needs some time to himself to get his head back on straight.

He ignores Jonny trying to catch his eye, knowing that he’s going to either try to talk to Patrick about what’s going on with his hockey, or try to get him to hang out tonight so he can talk to him about his hockey. Whatever Jonny wants to say to him is going to be the wrong thing. It’s not Jonny’s fault; Patrick’s frustrated and he’s saving them both the argument, especially so soon after clearing one up. He waves Danny off when he tells him he’s going to lunch with Saader and Shawzy and slips out of the room before any of the other guys can stop him.

By the time he gets home he has a couple texts asking what his plans are this afternoon- Sharpy and Seabs- and asking if he wants to get dinner- Jonny. It’s times like these Patrick wishes his friends were more like the hockey player stereotypes who avoid emotions at all costs. Jonny’s normally the only who texts him to hang out on off days, so the others are probably picking up some vibes from him. He sends them all some cheerful variations of _thanks but no thanks_ \- more polite, of course- and sets his phone on do not disturb. He can’t manage to convince himself to eat lunch, his appetite nonexistent, so he locks himself in his room and plays video games for a few hours.

Dinnertime comes and goes, and he doesn’t move.

🏒🏒🏒

Patrick shouldn’t be surprised the next morning when Jonny shows up to their flight with Patrick’s favorite coffee, but he is. The smile he gives Jonny is bright and genuine, and he doesn’t protest when Jonny shoves him into the window seat so he can sit in the aisle. He practically drains the coffee before the plane even takes off; he hadn’t slept well the night before, tossing and turning, and the lack of food isn’t helping with his energy levels. He accidentally slept in and didn’t have time to eat anything.

“You look exhausted,” Jonny comments, basically reading Patrick’s mind.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Patrick says through a yawn, trying to get comfortable in the plane seat.

“It’s a 2 hour flight, take a nap.” Patrick scoffs, sure he’s not going to be able to fall asleep in the uncomfortable chair, but before he knows what’s happening, Jonny’s got his arm around Patrick’s shoulders and he’s pulling Patrick in so he can use Jonny’s shoulder as a pillow. It’s surprisingly comfortable; he fits pretty nicely in the curve of Jonny’s arm, and Jonny’s warm enough that Patrick doesn’t even feel like he needs a blanket. Almost as soon as they’re settled his eyes start to slip shut without his permission.

Of course, that’s when Danny’s face pops up over the seat in front of them. “Hey Patty, do you have my charger?” he asks before he seems to take in their position. And then he looks _delighted_ , eyes gleaming and a grin spreading over his face.

“It’s in the front pocket of your bag,” Patrick mumbles, not bothering to move. Whatever, his brother can think what he wants; Patrick’s too comfortable to pretend he doesn’t want to be tucked in against Jonny’s side, and Jonny doesn’t seem inclined to move either. Danny’s head disappears and Jonny settles his hand on Patrick’s collarbone, stroking a gentle pattern there. The contact and the gentle hum of the plane engine lulls Patrick to sleep almost instantly.

He’s groggy when they land, letting Jonny take his bag and lead him off the plane with a hand on his shoulder, guiding him to the bus and into another window seat. He’s too tired to really register that that’s not something Jonny usually does and he doesn’t understand why Sharpy gives Patrick a _look_.

“What?” he asks when Sharpy slips into the bus seat that Jonny vacated to use the bathroom, raising an eyebrow.

“You and Jonny must’ve made up, then?” he asks pointedly. Patrick blinks at him.

“I- yeah, I guess.” Sharpy seems to be asking something more than what he’s saying, but Patrick isn’t really getting it.

“They’re so romantic, aren’t they?” Danny laughs, head popping up from the seat in front of them again, and seriously can’t he just _go away_? “Bringing each other drinks, hugging all the time, Tazer following him home after an argument, the _snuggling_. It’s like a romcom.” Patrick’s fists clench in his lap. Maybe he’s let this joke go on too long, if Danny’s going to start bringing it up in front of other people. He thought maybe he’d have a little more tact than that. Sharpy shoots a quizzical look at Patrick, and he just shakes his head. After an awkward second, Danny clears his throat and disappears back down into his seat.

“He thinks me and Jonny are dating,” he mumbles in explanation. “I thought it was funny to let him think so, but it doesn’t seem so funny anymore.”

“Kaner,” Sharpy starts. When he doesn’t continue, Patrick looks at him. Sharpy seems to be deciding something, but he takes another look at Patrick and shakes his head a little bit.

“Get your ass out of my seat, Sharp,” Jonny barks, ruffling Sharpy’s hair just to annoy him. Patrick’s relieved; whatever weird tension was in the air is effectively broken as Sharpy gets up and pulls Jonny into a headlock. Patrick can’t help but laugh at them, and it feels good. Normal. When Jonny sits back down beside him, Patrick lets himself press their shoulders together.

He has to run to the bathroom and splash cold water on his face before practice, hoping to wake himself up a little bit. It doesn’t help the sluggish feeling and the way his body seems to be reacting to everything a few seconds too late. He should’ve tried to eat something on the plane, but the thought of eating makes him a little nauseous.

“You’re good, Peeks,” Jonny mumbles in the locker room after practice, when Patrick throws his gear off a little harder than necessary. “Let’s go eat and then get some rest, okay?” Patrick follows Jonny into the hotel restaurant, but it takes a little more convincing to get his body to accept his usual lunch of chicken and pasta. It makes his stomach roll and he has to keep drinking water to force himself to swallow it. He barely eats half of it and he knows Jonny notices. He has little hope that Sharpy hasn’t either. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, what’s causing his body to be so out of whack, but he hopes it’ll be fixed with a nap and a good night’s sleep.

The game against the Caps is… fine. They win, and he even manages to get an assist despite the pounding headache he woke up with. He drinks a lot of water, hoping he’s just dehydrated or something, and begs off going out with the guys to hide out in his room and try to get some sleep. Despite his exhaustion, he lays in the dark for hours staring at the ceiling. The last time he remembers looking at the clock it was 2am.

His alarm goes off the next morning at 7 and he has to force himself downstairs for team breakfast before they travel to Philly. They have a mid-morning practice and Patrick isn’t even surprised when it’s more of the same from him. Coach is starting to make disapproving noises, which just makes Patrick worry even more. He was finally getting to play with Jonny, this is supposed to be _easy_ hockey. He and Jonny have always been magic together and now he’s blowing his chance to show everyone how good they can be and making Jonny look bad in the process.

Patrick waves Danny off when he asks if Patrick wants to join him and some of the younger guys for lunch, but he knows there’s no avoiding going to lunch with his friends. He can only blow them off so many times before they stage an intervention. He chooses to sit between Crow and Duncs, the two least likely to try and force him into a conversation, and avoids the hurt look Jonny throws at him. Crow’s the only one who doesn’t make Patrick feel like he’s watching his every move all day. He lets Patrick engage him in conversations about his girlfriend and what he did over the summer and doesn’t bat an eye when Patrick doesn’t give him time to ask any questions in return.

Somehow he manages to force all of his food down, cleaning his plate under a few pairs of watchful eyes. He knows they’re worried, that they’re just trying to look out for him, so he forces a smile and tries his best to look content, like nothing’s wrong. He doesn’t _know_ what’s wrong. He doesn’t know what’s making his body betray him, why he can’t sleep and can’t eat and doesn’t want to do anything but lay in bed all day. He pretends so that no one asks him any questions he doesn’t know how to answer.

They have mandatory team dinner that night, after he takes a restless nap. Jonny’s to his right, shooting Patrick side-eyed glances every couple minutes, and Shawzy’s to his left. Danny’s right across the table from them, talking and grinning and cracking jokes that send the whole table into peals of laughter.

“So what was Kaner like when he was younger?” Krugs asks from down the table. Danny lights up and shoots Patrick a conspiratorial smile. Patrick braces himself for the worst. Any of the stories that Danny has to tell are probably going to be the things that Patrick’s tried his best to forget over the years.

“Oh, you know Patty. Always so quiet and shy,” he laughs. There’s some confused glances thrown his way. Patrick was only “quiet and shy” for his first couple months as a Hawk. With Jonny at his side, it was almost impossible to stay in his shell. They pushed each other in a good way, breaking down the walls piece by piece until Patrick was more comfortable in the locker room than he was in his own home. At least until recently.

“Come on, Danno, you have to have some good stories,” Steeger goads. Danny thinks for a moment.

“He was the one people liked to prank in the locker room,” he says. “He was so quiet that the boys liked to get a rise out of him. Oh, like that time we put stick tape on his skate blades before a big game! There were some scouts there checking him out. He stepped on the ice for warmups and took a dive.” A couple guys around the table laugh- Shawzy even nudges Patrick in the side- but Patrick can feel Jonny tense next to him. “And that time we went and found some old skates at a thrift store, tore the blades off, and super glued them to a block of wood and hung them in Patty’s locker. We thought maybe it would help stop the chirps about his height.” Danny winks at Patrick. Patrick doesn’t respond.

“And, like, when me and our sisters were younger sometimes we would pretend he was invisible,” he continues. “Like he would talk and we’d act like we didn’t hear him or couldn’t see him. Oh and what was that girl’s name? Catherine?”

“Ashlynn,” Patrick says quietly.

“Right! Ashlynn.” Patrick grits his teeth. “Well she liked Patty, right, but she came over one day to hang out with him and he wasn’t home. We kept our hair the same and everything back then and she saw me and I guess just assumed I was Patrick. She spent the whole time she was there flirting with me and we started making out and BAM! Patrick walks in. When she realized what happened she ran out and never talked to either of us again.”

What Danny doesn’t know is that Ash was actually Patrick’s first girlfriend. They had been dating for a month when he walked into his house to see Danny kissing her. Ash really had thought Danny was Patrick and was so embarrassed she broke up with him. Patrick still isn’t sure if Danny knew who Ash thought she was with. Danny keeps going, telling story after story of the pranks they pulled on him, but Patrick can’t listen anymore. He tunes out, sees some of the guys around the table starting to shift uncomfortably the longer Danny talks. Everything inside of him wants to run away. He doesn’t want to listen to Danny telling what he thinks are cute funny stories that are actually Patrick’s worst memories.

He doesn’t realize he’s bouncing his leg anxiously until Jonny’s hand lands on his knee, stilling him. Patrick doesn’t look up at him, eyes locking onto the two beaded bracelets circling Jonny’s wrist. He doesn’t wear them during games, but he hardly takes them off otherwise. Patrick had laughed at him at first for wearing them, but they really do suit him. His hand reaches out without his permission, two fingers hooking themselves underneath the beads. Jonny doesn’t pull away. Patrick runs his thumb over the bracelet, focuses on the texture of the beads and the warmth of Jonny’s skin. His heart- which he hadn’t realized had been racing- starts to slow and he slumps back into his seat, not breaking contact with Jonny.

He risks a glance up, but Jonny’s not looking at him. He’s studying Danny with a peculiar look on his face, like he’s seeing him for the first time. Patrick’s heart sinks. What’s Jonny thinking, hearing these stories? He’s listening with the kind of focus he usually reserves for hockey plays, eyes not leaving Danny’s face. Is he laughing inside at how pathetic Patrick is? Already making plans to spend more time with Danny? Patrick’s high-maintenance, always taking and taking what Jonny gives without a second thought. Danny’s more fun, quicker to laugh, easier to just _be_ around.

Patrick needs to let go. He needs to stop taking the comfort Jonny gives, let go of the stupid bracelet that feels like a lifeline, an anchor, but he thinks if he lets go he’ll start drifting.

It doesn’t matter. He has to let go. He slips his fingers away from Jonny’s skin, pulls his hand back, but Jonny follows his movement. He laces their fingers together, settling their clasped hands back on Patrick’s knee, and when Patrick looks up, his dark, unwavering eyes are trained right on him. Jonny squeezes his hand gently, searching Patrick’s face, concern etched in every line. Patrick tears his eyes away, blinking down at his lap so Jonny doesn’t see the tears.

He breathes deeply a few times, getting himself under control. When he looks up again he locks eyes with Sharpy. Patrick sees him glance down to where he can obviously see Jonny reaching over under the table. His face softens and he gives Patrick a reassuring smile and a nod. Patrick feels like he can relax, just a little bit. They love him. He _knows_ that. He lets his grip tighten around Jonny’s hand, relieved when Jonny squeezes back. It’s okay. He’s okay. He’s in a better place now and the stories are just stories.

When it’s time for them to head back to the hotel, Patrick has a hard time convincing himself to let go of Jonny. He knows he can’t walk around holding Jonny’s hand, even in somewhere like Philly where they probably won’t be recognized. He forces himself to pull away when they stand, but Jonny moves to grip Patrick by the nape of his neck, gently guiding him out of the restaurant and down the street to the hotel. He doesn’t let go until they’re outside Patrick’s room.

“Sorry, that was…” Patrick trails off. Jonny hums, hesitating for a second before he takes a deep breath.

“Danny pulled a lot of pranks on you, eh?” His voice is deceptively mild for the tense way he’s standing. Patrick doesn’t really know what to say; he doesn’t want to cause any issues between Danny and Jonny. If that’s even what this is. Patrick can usually read Jonny pretty well, but he’s sleep deprived and he could be misinterpreting this whole thing.

“It was the team,” Patrick decides. “I mean, and him and my sisters. But you know pranks are a part of hockey.”

“Some of them seemed pretty mean,” Jonny says, so quiet that Patrick barely hears him. He can’t look at Jonny, keeps his eyes off to the side. He doesn’t know what to say because, yeah, he agrees, but it’s not like he can say that.

“He wasn’t trying to hurt me,” Patrick all but whispers. _‘But he did_ ’ goes unsaid, hanging in the air between them. “Look, I’m gonna go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Jonny doesn’t argue with him, but he waits in the hallway until Patrick closes the door behind him.

🏒🏒🏒

The game the next night is more of the same for Patrick. No goals, no assists, and a stupid penalty that puts them down a goal at a crucial moment in the game. They lose, piling onto the heaps of shit on Patrick’s shoulders. Patrick can practically see it in Q’s eyes, that there’s going to be some line changes coming. He doesn’t even want to think about it. Luckily, no one wants to go out after the game and Patrick can slink back to his hotel room with his tail between his legs.

He doesn’t expect the knock on the door and he really seriously considers _not_ ignoring it, but he can’t muster the will to drag himself out of bed. He lays in the dark in silence and stares at the ceiling, replaying every moment of the game: what he did wrong, what he could’ve done better, what he needs to fix for next time. It’s what he usually does after losses, but something about it is digging into his skin this time, feels like a sharp pain burrowing into his chest. He can’t shut down his brain, no matter what he does. He tries counting, running plays in his head, singing songs to himself, but when he looks at the clock it reads 4am. They have to be downstairs by 8.

He doesn’t know what time he ends up drifting off, but he’s the first person on the bus. He had walked by the breakfast area and had seen the guys all scattered around the tables, but he couldn’t bring himself to go in there. He accidentally looked in the mirror this morning when he was getting ready and he knows he looks like shit. The thought of talking to people, of having to answer their questions, makes him want to scream. He’ll have to do it eventually but he’s for sure going to put it off as long as possible.

He sits near the back, hoping maybe the boys won’t notice him until it’s too late to sit by him. He’s wrong, of course. Jonny’s on the bus not even five minutes after Patrick, zeroing in on him and walking back until he can force his way past Patrick and into the window seat.

“Eat this,” he says, shoving a protein bar into Patrick’s hands. “You look like you didn’t sleep at all.” Patrick doesn’t try to hide his heavy sigh. He does unwrap the bar, taking a bite under Jonny’s watchful gaze. It tastes like dirt in his mouth, but he forces himself to swallow it and take another bite. Duncs and Seabs make their way down the aisle too, sitting in the row across from him and pretending like they’re not watching him. He can tell that they’re having some kind of silent conversation with Jonny, but he ignores it in favor of mechanically chewing and swallowing bite after bite until he can crumple up the wrapper and pointedly shove it in Jonny’s hand. Jonny catches his fingers before he can pull away, and Patrick’s hand gets tangled up with his, his thumb somehow getting hooked under Jonny’s bracelet again. When Jonny doesn’t let go, Patrick decides he’s too tired to fight it. He wants this, even if he shouldn’t let himself have it. As long as Jonny’s offering, Patrick’s not going to be able to say no. The bus starts moving once everyone’s settled and the gentle rocking has Patrick’s eyes drooping, his head listing toward Jonny even though he’s trying with all his might to stay awake.

He falls asleep anyway, head on Jonny’s shoulder. He only vaguely remembers getting to the airport, somehow managing to get settled on the plane through his daze, and then Jonny’s next to him again, pulling Patrick against him with an arm around his shoulders, and Patrick’s asleep before the plane even takes off.

🏒🏒🏒

His lethargy gets worse by the day. He can’t fall asleep until 3, 4, 5 am and the only thing that can get him out of bed when they have practice or games is the knowledge that he’ll be letting Jonny down if he doesn’t show up. That excuse doesn’t work on off-days. He starts skipping his off-day exercise routines in favor of getting a few extra hours of restless sleep, starts eating junk when he even eats at all, because he can't gather the energy to cook. The guilt almost overwhelms him; Danny makes them breakfast and dinner now when they’re home and most of it goes uneaten on Patrick’s plate.

He’s feeling a little better today, though. He actually managed to get a goal in the game last night and even fell asleep around 2. He decides to take advantage of it. “Hey, I can make dinner tonight,” he tells Danny, who’s lounging on the couch.

“Cool, man,” Danny responds absently, like he doesn’t care one way or another, like it hasn’t been 2 weeks since Patrick’s cooked anything. He decides on chicken and veggies, something fairly simple that he can just cook on the stove with very little effort. The chicken’s almost done when his mind starts wandering. He’s not thinking about anything in particular, idly imagining how comfortable his bed would be right now, analyzing his goal, mind drifting between everything and nothing. He’s startled out of his own head when he starts smelling smoke. When he sees the burning chicken it’s like his brain shuts off; he freezes, can’t think of what to do.

Danny runs in just as the smoke alarm starts going off. He rushes over and turns the stove off, pulling the pan of burning chicken off of the heat and opening the window. Patrick slumps onto the barstool and buries his face in his hands, taking a deep breath, and then another, and another. He just wanted to do one thing- _one thing-_ right. He can’t even fucking make dinner anymore without messing it up.

"Do you want me to call Jonny?" Danny asks tentatively.

“Whatever,” Patrick says distractedly, rubbing his hands across his face one more time before pulling them away and getting up to clean up his mess. The real answer is yes, he does want Jonny here, but he can’t say that outside of his own head. He’s been trying to avoid Jonny- and everyone else- outside of hockey, and he certainly doesn’t need Jonny to come over here and see how much of a mess he’s become. Jonny shouldn’t have to clean up after him all the time.

Patrick’s back to slumping on the barstool half an hour later when he hears Danny open the door, hears footsteps heading toward the kitchen. Patrick doesn’t raise his head from the counter but he listens as the footsteps cross the room and the refrigerator door opens. There’s some rustling sounds, then more footsteps approaching him before a warm hand lands softly on his back, trailing up to the nape of his neck. He pushes back into the touch, keeping his eyes closed, and Jonny steps close enough for Patrick to feel his warmth.

“Can you eat something for me?” he asks quietly. Patrick sighs but he nods and a second later there’s a rustling sound. Patrick opens his eyes and takes in the food Jonny had placed in front of him. He’s completely lost his appetite, but Jonny went out of his way to bring this over so Patrick’s going to eat it. He’s not going to be ungrateful. He does manage to eat it all, and the way Jonny smiles at him is enough to make it worth it. But then Jonny goes to throw away their garbage, and when he comes back he has a banana smoothie in his hand. Patrick’s smile feels foreign on his face when Jonny hands it to him and before Patrick can talk himself out of it, he leans up and presses a kiss to Jonny’s cheek. Jonny’s hand lands on Patrick’s hip and he smiles down at him with so much _fondness_ on his face that it almost makes Patrick want to cry.

“Can you-” he starts, panicked, when Jonny starts to pull his hand away. He doesn’t want Jonny to leave yet, but he feels incredibly guilty asking him to stay.

“Can I what?” Jonny asks gently.

“Will you go to my room with me?” Patrick asks in a rush. “We can just watch tv or whatever, and I might fall asleep, but I just…” _don’t want to be alone_. Jonny’s nodding before Patrick even finishes his sentence.

“Of course,” Jonny agrees. “Lead the way.” Patrick brings his smoothie into bed with him, sipping at it as Jonny flips through streaming services. “What do you wanna watch?”

“Something stupid,” Patrick yawns, laughing when Jonny lands on River Monsters. “Jeremy Wade isn’t stupid, Jonny. How dare you.” Jonny doesn’t answer and when Patrick glances over at him he’s looking back at Patrick sadly. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jonny shakes his head, “I just haven’t heard you laugh in awhile.” Patrick freezes for a moment, but he sets his smoothie on the nightstand before he reaches out to cup Jonny’s cheek.

“I’m okay,” he lies, answering the unspoken question in Jonny’s eyes. Jonny just tilts his face into Patrick’s hand and kisses his wrist. They look at each other for a few minutes and then Jonny _moves_ , flopping down on top of Patrick and resting his head on Patrick’s chest. Patrick lets his hand follow Jonny’s movement and lets it rest on the back of Jonny’s head, running his fingers through Jonny’s hair. They lay like that for a while, half-watching the show, until Patrick feels his eyes starting to slip closed. It’s barely even 8pm, but all of his exhaustion is catching up with him, and he’s so comfortable here. Before he fully drifts off, he mumbles out a “thank you” and hopes Jonny knows what he means.

It must be a couple hours later when Patrick wakes up, Jonny moving up and off of him. He must make some kind of protesting noise because Jonny lays a hand on Patrick’s chest. “I’m just changing clothes,” Jonny tells him quietly. “Go back to sleep, I’ll be back in a second.” Patrick doesn’t fall back asleep right away; he waits until Jonny settles himself back on the bed and then rolls over to him, tucking himself under Jonny’s arm. It’s not something he would normally let himself have, but he’s so _tired_ and it’s so much easier to sleep when Jonny’s next to him. Jonny just pulls him closer. “Goodnight, Peeks,” he whispers, and Patrick swears he feels lips press against his forehead as he’s drifting back off.

Danny doesn’t say anything the next morning when Jonny walks out of Patrick’s bedroom, not even when Jonny leaves early to go change clothes before practice. He smiles at Patrick like he’s _happy_ that Jonny stayed over, and Patrick knows he’s in too deep now to explain to Danny that Jonny’s not his boyfriend. Danny just wouldn’t understand.

Patrick manages a few more days of mediocre games and botched practices, of dodging concerned teammates and avoiding phone calls, before Danny sits down on the floor in front of the couch where Patrick’s laying. He folds his hands and looks at Patrick seriously.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly. Patrick’s startled by the question; he doesn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t this. He didn’t really expect Danny to notice that Patrick was acting off. They’re not close enough for that.

“Why?” Patrick dodges the question, because the real answer is no, he’s not okay, but he doesn’t know _how_ to be okay. Danny wouldn’t be able to do anything about it anyway.

“You’ve been acting kinda weird,” Danny says. “I was gonna let you work it out yourself, but Sharpy’s been asking me to keep an eye on you and now mom’s calling me and asking why you won’t answer her calls.” _There_ it is. He knew Danny wouldn’t be doing this without some extra pressure.

“Sharpy’s just nosy. And I’ll call mom,” he promises, already trying to find a way to get out of it. He’ll text her, maybe shoot off some funny messages to his sisters, and they’ll all settle down. They’ll believe that he’s just busy, especially after watching the recent games. He doesn’t even want to know what his dad will say. “Just stressed. You’ve seen how I’ve been playing.”

“You never smile.” Danny’s voice is barely more than a whisper. “I mean, sometimes you do, like when Jonny’s around. But when I was in Arizona I watched all of your media stuff and you looked happy. You don’t look happy anymore.” Patrick doesn’t have a single thing to say to that. He keeps his eyes locked on the tv over Danny’s shoulder until Danny sighs and stands up. “Do you wanna play video games?” Patrick doesn’t, but he’ll do it anyway, if only to get Danny to stop asking questions.

🏒🏒🏒

By the time November hits, Patrick’s on a 10-game point drought. He’s been pointedly ignoring any and all media having to do with him, but the times he gets cornered into doing post-game interviews make him want to hide, pull his hair out, never speak to anyone again. They ask him over and over again what he thinks he needs to do better, why isn’t he producing, the Hawks have been losing, does Patrick think that’s because of his lack of points? It doesn’t help when he finally bites the bullet and answers the phone calls from his parents.

His mom gets about 5 minutes in of asking about how he’s doing before his dad takes over the call. As soon as he hears, “Danny’s been playing great, maybe you should spend some time practicing with just him,” that he tunes out of the conversation, spending the next 20 minutes listening to his father critiquing his play and trying to tell him all of the ways he could be better, be more like Danny. It’s even worse when Danny comes in and Patrick has to listen to another 20 minutes of his dad praising Danny’s play and telling him how well he’s doing and how proud he is. His dad means well, he really does.

They have to go to practice right after that. Patrick’s even worse than usual, his frustration bleeding into everything he does and making him clumsy and off-balance. Most of his shots go wide, even when he’s shooting at an empty net, but he keeps trying and trying and trying, long after everyone else has left the ice.

When his stick snaps on a slapshot, he feels something inside him crack along with it. The one thing- _the one thing-_ he’s good at is hockey, and he can’t even do that right anymore. He feels hot, angry, frustrated tears welling up and he throws his stick on the ground before pressing his palms against his eyes, trying to just breathe and push them back.

“Peeks?” It’s Sharpy, skating up behind him, still in his gear like he hadn’t left the ice either. Patrick hadn’t even noticed him hanging around. He doesn’t answer, throat tight, and Sharpy leans in so he can look Patrick in the face. “What do you need from me?” he asks softly, worry etched into the lines of his face. Patrick doesn’t know what to say. He shrugs helplessly and Sharpy’s brow furrows.

“Everything’s just been really shitty lately,” Patrick chokes out. “I’m just… really tired.” He is tired. More than just physically tired. He’s tired of comparing himself to his brother, he’s tired of feeling like he isn’t good enough, he’s tired of pushing away the people that love him. He doesn’t know what else to do. “I’ll be fine, Sharpy. I just need to take a longer nap today or something.”

“You’re sure?” Sharpy doesn’t believe him, that much is clear. Patrick tries his best to brighten his face up, to look like he’s not fracturing.

“Yeah, I’ve just lost my groove a little bit. I’ll be fine.” Sharpy nods at him before clapping him on the shoulder.

“Alright, Kaner. Let’s get out of here, eh?” Patrick allows Sharpy to lead him back over to the bench, and Sharpy gets showered and ready to go faster than Patrick, but he waits and makes idle chatter while Patrick gets dressed. When Patrick’s ready to go, he’s about to say his goodbyes in the parking lot when Sharpy claps a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re coming over for lunch, Peeks,” Sharpy says, steering Patrick to Sharpy’s own car. 

“I don’t know, man,” Patrick starts to protest, “I don’t really feel-”

“This isn’t a request, Patrick,” Sharpy says, deceptively light. “You’re coming over and you’re going to play with Maddie and Sadie and cuddle with Shooter and let me and Abby care you to death.” Patrick sighs quietly, but he should’ve seen this coming. He’s been dodging Sharpy for so long that it was just a matter of time before he got cornered. At least the girls will be there as a buffer, and he always has fun playing with them. Maybe this will be a good thing.

He pulls his phone out on the drive and finds a message from Jonny asking what he’s doing for lunch, so he tilts his phone to take a selfie with Sharpy. He sends it to Jonny, with the message _Got kidnapped by Sharpy. Send help._ Jonny sends back an eye rolling emoji. When they make it to Sharpy’s house, he pulls Patrick into the living room and sits him down on the living room floor where the girls are playing with their dolls.

“Uncle Peeks!” they both shriek, launching themselves at him to wrap him up in a hug. He finds himself smiling and laughing with them as they shove dolls and tiaras into his hands, slipping into his role as Prince Pufflepants perfectly. He’s got fake teaparties down to a science, and for a little while he’s able to forget about anything but the girls in front of him and the fake tea they want him to pretend to drink. He almost forgets why he’s even there until Abby comes in to call them to the table. The girls go rushing into the dining room, but Patrick takes a second to pull all of his accessories off, which gives Abby the chance to corner him. She walks up to him, looking intently at his face, and he can’t do anything but freeze. She plants her hands on her hips and leans in close and his eyes widen as she studies him.

“You look exhausted, Pat.” He doesn’t answer. “You know they’re all worried about you. Patrick comes home from every practice and game telling me how tired and unhappy you look. It’s been keeping him up at night.”

“I’m sorry,” Patrick says, the guilt shining through in his voice. He never meant for his bullshit to affect anyone else.

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for,” Abby gently scolds. “But will you tell me if… does this have something to do with Danny?” Patrick flinches, startled by how spot on she is. “Patrick told me some of the stories he told from when you were younger. He said you were upset by them, and Jonny said you’ve been weird about Danny from the beginning.”

“So you’re all talking about me behind my back now?” he snaps. He knows it’s unfair, that they’re just worried, but he feels like he’s on display, like everyone’s just gawking at him, watching his every move. Abby doesn’t respond, but she levels a look at Patrick. “I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he says.

“No matter what, remember that we love you,” Abby says gently. “I’m getting this conversation out of the way now, and we won’t bring it up the rest of the night. We just missed having you around, alright?” Patrick nods, and when she pulls him into a hug he doesn’t resist. “Please, Pat. You don't have to talk to us, but please talk to someone.”

She lets him go, then, and he’s relieved when he can sit at the table and pretend that moment never happened. He believes her that they won’t try to talk to him about this again tonight, and it’s like a weight off of his shoulders. They know he’s not okay, so he doesn’t have to pretend to be okay. He doesn’t have to be on his guard the whole time worried about when they’re going to force him to talk. He doesn’t try to make himself act fine and chipper, lets his shoulders droop like they want to, doesn’t force a smile on his face when it doesn’t come naturally. He sees the concern Sharpy and Abby are trying to hide, but he’s mostly okay with it. And after lunch when they all pile into the den to watch Disney movies, Patrick curls up with Maddie on one side and Sadie on the other and doesn’t try to force himself to stay awake. He lets himself relax into the comfort of them surrounding him: the girls, Sharpy, Abby, and even Shooter at his feet. He falls asleep.

He wakes up some time later alone in the den, laying on the couch covered with a blanket. He doesn’t know how long he slept, but he feels well rested for the first time in awhile. When he makes his way upstairs he finds Sharpy in the kitchen cleaning up whatever mess was left over from lunch and catches a glimpse of Abby and the girls in the backyard. Sharpy turns when he hears Patrick’s footsteps and he gives him a small smile. Patrick crosses the room and he can feel Sharpy’s confusion when Patrick pulls him into a tight hug, but a split second later, Sharpy’s hugging him back just as tightly.

“Thank you,” Patrick mumbles against his shoulder.

“Anytime, Kaner,” Sharpy says. “We love you.”

🏒🏒🏒

It’s just getting dark outside when Patrick calls a Lyft. He has to pick his car up at the rink and by the time he walks in the door he finds Danny already eating dinner.

“Hey, have fun at Sharpy’s?” Danny asks around a mouthful of food.

“Yeah,” Patrick says absently, reaching for a glass to fill with water. And then he really registers what Danny said, turning to look at him. “How did you know I was at Sharpy’s?”

“Oh, Jonny told me,” Danny says, like it’s not a big fucking deal. “We had lunch together.” Patrick goes cold and he has to set the glass on the counter before he drops it from his suddenly shaking hands.

“You had lunch with Jonny?” he asks, hoping he’d misheard. “Like just the two of you? You and Jonny?”

“Yeah, we hadn’t really spent any time together one on one yet, so I asked him. He said you were having lunch with Sharpy anyway.” Danny shrugs and looks up at Patrick a little sheepishly. “I maybe should’ve mentioned it to you, but you stayed late to practice and you and Jonny are always joined at the hip. I saw him alone and I just went for it.” Patrick clenches his teeth before he can say something he’ll regret, shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket so Danny doesn’t see how bad they’re shaking. He just _went for it_. Saw Jonny alone and _went for it_. Patrick has to leave. He turns on his heel and basically jogs to his bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him. 

He’s not going to break down over this, okay? He’s _not_. It doesn’t matter. He’s just overreacting. It was just lunch. But Patrick can’t get what Abby said out of his mind: Jonny’s noticed that Patrick is uncomfortable around Danny, and he still went out with him? And even though Jonny’s not his boyfriend, Danny _thinks_ he is, and what if Jonny decides he likes Danny better? What can Patrick offer that Danny can’t? Danny’s always been friendlier, happier, easier to get along with than Patrick. Now he’s even managed to take hockey from him. They even fucking _look the same_ , except Jonny’s always complained about how bad Patrick’s hair is. Patrick has to force back hysterical laughter as he realizes Jonny probably even prefers Danny’s hair. Any chance Patrick may have had with Jonny basically flew out the window the second Danny got traded and there’s nothing Patrick can do about it.

He takes a shower, hoping the pounding water will drown out his own thoughts. It doesn’t work. When he finally crawls into bed, he stares at the ceiling for hours and hours, watching the light change through the curtains until the sun is rising and his alarm goes off. They leave for the circus trip today, which means two weeks of being trapped in hotels with the team.

He forces himself out of bed and puts his headphones on, going through the motions of getting ready to get on the plane, thankful that he had packed ahead of time. He ignores Danny all morning when he tries to get Patrick’s attention. He hopes he’s putting out enough _fuck off_ vibes to make him give up sooner rather than later. He lets Danny drive to the airport, if only because he can barely see straight, but he turns the music up so loud that it drowns out the possibility of conversation, and when they get on the plane he ignores his normal seat with Jonny to climb over Seabs’s legs into the window seat. If Seabs protests, he doesn’t hear it, headphones firmy on and eyes glued out the window.

He manages to avoid speaking to or even looking at anyone all morning and the last thing he expects is for Q to pull him aside in the locker room right as he’s setting his bag in his stall before practice.

“Kaner, you’re not practicing today,” Q says without preamble.

“What?” It slips out, loud and angry, and Q winces apologetically.

“Not to mince words, kid, you look like shit,” he says bluntly. “You’ve lost a lot of weight and I’m worried you might be sick or playing through an injury. As of right now, I’m not scratching you from the game tonight, but I want you to go talk to the trainers. If they say you can’t play, you’re not playing tonight.” Patrick shoots an outraged glance at Jonny just in time to see him look away guiltily. He doesn’t think coach would’ve done anything like this without word from Jonny and Patrick swings between red hot fury and cold fear as he goes to the trainers.

He gets poked and prodded, his temperature taken and his eyes checked, before they decide he’s not sick, just exhausted. Patrick could’ve told them that. Everything’s a little blurry and he’s been on the verge of tears all morning. They send him away with the promise that he won’t be scratched tonight, but he’s still not allowed to go on the ice for practice. He ends up having to take an uber to the hotel with strict instructions to get some rest. Yeah, right. He settles down on the bed and he tries, he does, but he can’t slow the thoughts racing through his brain or the nausea that’s settled into his stomach. He hasn’t eaten since lunch the day before.

He does manage to fall into some kind of weird comatose state where he’s not really awake but not really asleep, right up until the knock on the door. He can’t say he’s particularly surprised. He rolls out of bed with a groan and opens the door without bothering to check who’s on the other side of it. It’s Jonny, of course, and he pushes past Patrick without a word, waiting until Patrick closes the door and follows him into the room before speaking.

“What the fuck is going on?” Jonny sounds pissed, but Patrick can hear the undercurrent, the worry, in his voice.

"You and Danny had lunch yesterday, huh?" The question slips out of his mouth without his permission, his filter almost nonexistent in his exhaustion. Even saying it sends a twinge through his heart, the scene of walking in on Danny and Ashlynn flitting through his mind. Maybe it’s not the same, but. But.

Jonny sighs. "I knew that was a bad fucking idea. He asked me to and I was gonna ask you to come but you were at Sharpy's. I’m his captain, I couldn’t just say no without a reason." He walks toward Patrick and places gentle hands on Patrick's shoulders. "Will you tell me what's going on with you and Danny?"

“Why?” Patrick snaps. “I’m sure you guys are the bestest of friends now. Maybe you should go talk to him instead.”

“I’d rather talk to you,” Jonny says calmly. Patrick’s mouth snaps shut, eyes focused on Jonny’s shoulder. “Patrick, just talk to me. Please. What’s going on?”

Patrick wants to shrug him off, shove Jonny out of his room, but the touch is comforting and Patrick finds himself blinking back tears. Honestly, what could be the harm? Abby's words flit through his head: _you don't have to talk to us, but please talk to someone._ Who better than Jonny? There's no one in this world who understands Patrick more. He’s seen Patrick at his messiest and he’s still here. If Jonny was gonna give up on him, wouldn’t he have done it by now? And if this is the straw that breaks the camel’s back, the moment that Jonny decides he’s too much work, isn’t it just better to get it over with? He takes a deep breath, doesn’t know where to start, what to say, and hopes that if he opens his mouth and starts talking something coherent will come out. The last thing he expects to say is, "I love you."

Patrick lets his eyes dart to Jonny’s face, and the way he’s looking at Patrick is soft, hands flexing against Patrick's shoulders, but he doesn't move. He looks surprised, but not nearly as surprised as Patrick expects him to be: like Patrick just told him something he already knew but didn’t expect to hear right now.

"You love me?" Jonny asks on a breath. It's a testament to Patrick's exhaustion that he's not even panicking right now.

"I didn't really mean to tell you that," Patrick mumbles. "I mean, I don’t really expect you to feel the same so don’t feel like you... I don’t...” He reaches up to rub at his eyes, and Jonny finally moves, gently taking hold of Patrick's wrists and pulling them away from his face. Patrick heaves a frustrated sigh, unable to force any more words from his mouth. But then Jonny's stepping forward, so close that Patrick has to tilt his head back to look at him.

“Patrick…” He brings a hand up to tilt Patrick’s face, leans down slowly, giving Patrick plenty of time to stop him, but Patrick feels a flash of _something_ , something like hope or joy, before Jonny's lips meet his. It's gentle, just a press of lips, but Patrick leans into Jonny, knowing Jonny can take it, can hold him up, and he shakes his hands loose from Jonny's grip to grab a hold of his shirt. The kiss breaks barely a split second later, but Patrick buries his face against Jonny's chest, tears falling, and Jonny's holding him like he's something important, like he doesn't want to let him go.

Patrick’s shaking, barely registering Jonny’s soothing noises. He _wants_ this- wants _Jonny_. He just told Jonny he loved him and Jonny didn’t run away, is still here holding Patrick like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. It should be easy, the way things with Jonny always are... But there are two things Patrick is absolutely sure of. One, he loves Jonathan Toews with every fibre of his being. And two, he and Jonny can't be together. Not right now.

“Jonny, I can’t,” he chokes out, trying to pull away, but Jonny gently guides his head back down, holding Patrick for a little while longer until the tears dry up and he’s fallen still and quiet. It’s only then that he lets Patrick pick his head up, keeping him wrapped up in his arms. “You asked about Danny,” Patrick finally says, voice thick. Jonny nods. “I’m… I don’t even know how to... He just makes me feel…” Patrick makes a frustrated noise and Jonny presses his lips against Patrick’s forehead. “I’m messed up, Jon. My head’s not right when he’s here and I don’t have… I don’t have anything to give you right now.”

“I don’t need you to give me anything,” Jonny says quietly. Patrick makes a noise in protest.

“That’s what a relationship _is_. It has to be give and take. It has to be equal,” Patrick tries to explain. “I can’t do this if it’s not equal.” Patrick cups Jonny’s face in his hands and looks him in the eye for the first time in what feels like forever. “I’ve been taking and taking from you for months, _years_ even. You give so much, Jonny. The fact that you’re even in my room right now-”

“Means I care about you,” Jonny cuts in. “I can see that you’re struggling, that you’ve _been_ struggling. I just wanna help.”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Patrick explains quietly. “You’ve been trying so hard to take care of me, and soon you’re gonna get tired of it. You’re not going to have anything left to give because right now I can’t… Jon sometimes it takes everything I have to even get out of bed in the mornings.” The admission falls heavily like a weight between them; Patrick’s never admitted out loud the things he’s been dealing with, and Jonny’s worry is almost palpable. He looks like he wants to say something, opens and closes his mouth a couple times before he pulls Patrick into another hug.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t give,” Jonny whispers against his temple. “I need you to know that.”

“I know.” Jonny would do anything for Patrick, even if it meant making himself miserable. Patrick knows that if he tried to be with Jonny right now, their relationship would implode, leaving only tattered remains. He knows that in his bones. “Just give me some time,” Patrick begs. “I just… I need to work through my own shit and I can’t do that _and_ worry about this.”

"Okay,” Jonny agrees, lips brushing Patrick’s temple. “I can do that. Take whatever time you need, and I’ll be here. The way I feel about you isn’t going to change.” The relief floods through Patrick, and with it, exhaustion. Jonny must feel him suddenly sagging, resting almost all of his weight on Jonny, because he moves his hands back to Patrick’s shoulders and guides him to the bed. “Get some rest, okay?”

“Will you stay?” Patrick knows he shouldn’t ask, but the thought of Jonny leaving now makes him panic. Jonny doesn’t even hesitate before he drops down on the bed next to Patrick. It’s not even nap time for him, barely lunch time, but he wraps Patrick in his arms and settles in like he’s not planning on moving any time soon. Jonny moves to pull the blankets over them both and Patrick’s asleep before he gets settled back down.

🏒🏒🏒

With the way things have been going, he should’ve seen it coming. He knows he hasn’t been taking care of himself, hasn’t been eating or sleeping or keeping up with his exercise routines. Hockey’s become a chore. It’s honestly almost a relief when he feels it happen, the shooting pain in his leg that sends him crashing down to the ice. He has to blink back tears in his eyes as he tries to stretch out his leg. Distantly he hears the whistle, and then there’s a shadow looming over him, looking him over anxiously.

“Kaner, what happened?” Jonny’s worried voice breaks through the pain.

“My leg,” Patrick grits out, breathing through his teeth. “I think I tore a muscle.” And then the trainers are there, asking questions, helping him off the ice, Jonny trailing them the whole way. Through the pain he has the distant thought that he’s not going to be able to play for at least the rest of the game, if not a few games, and he feels like he can take a deep breath for the first time in months. 

He’s never been relieved to not be able to play before.

He’s still reeling from that thought as the trainers inspect him, running him through different exercises to test his range of motion. They confirm what he already knows, that it’s a torn muscle. They leave him alone for a few minutes and when they come back, it’s with news: he’s not going to be able to play for the rest of the circus trip. They’re sending him home. In a daze, someone books him a last-minute flight and he has just enough time to gather his things from the locker room and the hotel before he’s on the plane back to Chicago.

One thought is registering clearly in his head: he’s going to be alone for two weeks. The only person he’s going to see is his physical therapist. He’s not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse. He goes through the motions to get home, finding his car in the long-term parking lot and driving home. He feels his phone buzz a few times but he doesn’t check it. He knows that by the time he gets home the game is long over and his teammates will be checking on him, but all he wants to do is lay down in the dark. He turns on some mindless show and falls asleep relieved that he has no reason to get out of bed tomorrow.

He’s surprised when he wakes up the next morning and he’s actually hungry. It’s been so long since he’s actually had an appetite that he takes advantage of it, making bacon and eggs and toast, scarfing it all down with some orange juice. The silence of the apartment is blissful and he relaxes into the knowledge that he has his space back, if just for a couple weeks. He’s just finishing cleaning up the mess from his cooking when he thinks to check his phone. He’s not surprised by how many messages his teammates sent in the group chat, at first asking where he is and then transitioning into asking if he’s okay. He sends a couple thumbs up emojis and he doesn’t even have the chance to check his other messages before his phone is ringing.

“Hey,” he answers, and even his voice sounds a little lighter than it has.

“Are you okay?” Jonny asks. “We came back to the locker room and all your stuff was gone and they said they sent you back to Chicago.”

“It’s just a torn muscle, but I wouldn’t have been able to play,” he explains. “So they sent me home to do PT with Rob. I’m kinda enjoying the break.” He puts enough meaning behind the words that Jonny seems to get it.

“Yeah, this’ll give you some time to rest up,” Jonny agrees. “I hope you take advantage of the empty apartment.”

“I’m gonna watch lots of River Monsters and eat a lot of junk food,” Patrick laughs. Jonny laughs too, like it was startled out of him.

“Don’t forget to call me sometimes, alright?” Jonny asks, softer. “I’ll worry about you if you don’t.”

“You’re gonna worry about me anyway,” he says, because it’s true, and also because it makes him feel good.

“Yeah,” Jonny agrees. “I gotta go to practice, but eat some extra junk food for me.”

“‘Kay. I love you,” he stutters out, knowing he shouldn’t say it but finding it almost impossible to keep the words in now that he knows he’s _allowed_.

“I- I’ll be home soon,” Jonny responds. “Don’t miss me too much.”

“Goodbye, loser,” Patrick laughs, hanging up on him. He feels lighter for the rest of the day, and even manages to keep to a mostly-normal eating schedule. He can’t eat very much, but he feels proud of himself for cooking it and eats as much as he can before he starts to feel sick. There isn’t a game that night, so he does what he promised Jonny he would do and curls up in bed watching River Monsters. He sends a picture to the group chat just for good measure, rubbing it in that he gets to hang out in bed while they’re stuck in a hotel. He’s flooded with messages calling him an asshole and a loser, and then even more telling him to get better quick so he has to come join them, and he falls asleep that night with a smile.

His smile doesn’t last the next morning, when he has to go to physical therapy. It fucking hurts, leaves him sore and cranky, and he indulges himself with some chicken nuggets from Wendy’s on his way home. He passes out on the couch afterward and when he wakes up it’s just in time for the game to start. After some thought, he decides not to watch it. He’s been okay the past couple of days and he doesn’t want to ruin it by watching something he has no control over. No matter what, it’s just going to stress him out, and that’s not what he wants right now. He watches some movies instead: mostly some x-men movies that he missed in theatres, and he forgets to eat dinner but he’s been doing so well that he doesn’t let it bother him.

He’s fine, relaxed even, until he’s about to go to bed and decides to turn on the highlights from the game. He doesn’t think it’ll be a problem: just a cursory check to make sure he’s keeping up with what’s happening, maybe watch the post-game interviews just to hear Jonny’s voice. That’s when everything goes to shit. There’s Danny, in Patrick’s place on Jonny’s line. Scoring a hattrick. Jonny assists on two of the goals. The camera zooms in on the cellies, on Jonny's face, his smile bright, looking happier than Patrick's seen him in _months_. Patrick sits frozen, gasping for breath as the video switches to the post game interviews. He listens to Jonny praise Danny’s play, talk about how easy he is to play with. He wants to be happy for Jonny, for the team, but he can't help but think that it was his fault the team was losing. This is just another thing that Danny became better at. This is what makes Jonny happy. Danny, not Patrick. Danny can give Jonny what he wants, can make him happy. He has about 2 seconds of trying to convince himself that this is fine, that Jonny being happy is a good thing before he realizes:

Jonny never said it back. Patrick told him he loved him, _twice_ , but Jonny didn't say it back.

Then he's racing to the bathroom, fighting the pain in his leg and dropping to his knees in front of the toilet just in time to empty his stomach. He coughs his way through it, rinses his mouth out before hobbling his way back to his bed in a daze, pulling the blankets over his head.

He’s made a fool of himself. Jonny’s been taking care of Patrick for months, honestly being nothing more than a great friend, and Patrick threw himself at him. Jonny never actually said he wanted to be with Patrick but Patrick had just assumed when Jonny kissed him… but maybe Jonny just wanted to sleep with him, or maybe he just felt so bad for Patrick that it was all pity. Guilt is warring with horror in his mind; Jonny doesn’t want him and Patrick has ruined everything.

His phone starts chiming on the nightstand and Patrick picks it up, reading the excited messages in the group chat. Some are directed at him, asking if he watched, asking how he's feeling. Then Jonny’s face pops up on his screen with an incoming call.

He turns the phone off, tossing it away so that it lands somewhere on the floor.

🏒🏒🏒

It’s hard to keep track of the days after that. He sets an alarm- an actual alarm on an actual alarm clock, his phone still somewhere on his bedroom floor- every morning to make it to his PT appointment. The only reason he manages to go to those is because he knows he’ll be in major shit and have people banging down his door if he doesn’t. It’s easier to go see Rob for an hour every morning, let him run Patrick through exercises to stretch out his muscles, and then go home and hide out. He doesn’t talk to anyone else, barely remembers to eat more than once a day, occasionally gets up the energy to turn on the tv just for some noise as he lays in bed in a strange half-awake state. He can’t stop his racing mind, the thoughts telling him that he’s not good enough, that he’s too much to handle, that nobody likes him or loves him or wants him. Sometimes he has moments of clarity where he realizes he needs to talk to someone, reach out, tell someone what’s happening in his mind, but the fear and embarrassment drown those moments out before they’re fully formed. He doesn’t know exactly how long it’s been- a week? Week and a half?- before someone actually does start pounding on his front door. He doesn’t know who it could be; the team’s still in… Pittsburgh, he thinks. It awakens enough curiosity in him to not just ignore it and he drags himself to the door.

Abby Sharp is the last person he expects to see in his doorway. She takes one look at him and tears spring to her eyes before she’s pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. He doesn’t want to acknowledge the way he sags into it, grateful for the contact. “Patrick,” she chokes out. He has no idea what he must look like through her eyes; he’s been avoiding looking in a mirror. He hasn’t showered, doesn’t want to see the bags under his eyes or the weight he knows he’s lost. He’s had enough of Rob’s disapproving looks the past week to last him a lifetime. He lets her hold onto him for however long she needs, knowing that when she lets go he’s going to miss her touch. “I’m going to make us some lunch, okay?” she says as he pulls away. She shoots another worried glance over his face as he nods, following her into the kitchen and sitting down at one of the stools. She looks through his refrigerator and his cabinets, tutting at the state of them before she pulls out a box of pasta and an unopened jar of sauce.

“What are you doing here?” he finally has the presence of mind to ask. Abby’s never come over like this before, not without Sharpy. She hesitates to answer.

“You haven’t been answering your phone,” she says gently. “The boys were worried. They’ve been checking in with Rob to make sure you’ve been seeing him and that’s the only reason they didn’t send me sooner.” Patrick feels the flush creep up his face, the shame at making his friends worry about him just because his feelings were hurt.

“I turned my phone off. Must’ve forgot to turn it back on,” he lies, watching her filling up a pot with water.

“You’re an awful liar, Patty.” It’s not an accusation, but it makes Patrick shrink into himself a little more. “I think you should go get your phone,” she suggests gently. “Maybe check your messages.” He does, mostly so he doesn’t have to feel the guilt still creeping up on him. He has to search his bedroom for a minute before he finds it on the floor, hidden beneath a pair of jeans. When he turns it on, a flood of messages comes in so fast that the phone freezes and almost shuts off again. He walks back into the kitchen while he waits for it to stop, settling back down on his stool.

He has over a hundred missed calls, at least 20 voicemails, and so many text messages that he’s afraid to look at them. They start off as small check ins from the team but get increasingly worried as they go: _how are you, get out of bed lazy ass, kaner answer your phoooone, seriously answer your phone, are you alive, stop being an idiot, are you ok, call me_. They keep going and going, from the entire team, in the group chat, direct messages, even his sisters and mom sending a few worried check-ins. He clicks over to the voicemails, mostly from Sharpy and Jonny. He puts the phone on speaker, sets it on the counter, and plays the most recent one from just an hour ago.

 _“Patrick_ ,” Sharpy’s scared voice rings out. _“You’ve seriously got all of us worried sick. The only reason we know you’re alive is because of Rob. Please, we really, really need you to call one of us back, just to let us know you’re okay. Please.”_ A pause, and then softly, _“Tazer’s about to skip the game and hop on a plane home if we don’t hear from you. We’re serious about this, Kaner. I’ve stalled him for now by sending Abby over, but please,_ please _, talk to her. Call us.”_

He doesn’t pause to let Sharpy’s words sink in, just hits play on the next voicemail from Jonny. _“Patrick can you just… just answer. Please. If you don’t wanna talk, that’s fine, just. Call me. Please.”_ That’s it. That’s enough to make Patrick fracture just a little further. Jonny’s message was simple, but his _voice_. He sounded wrecked, worried beyond words, and Patrick _did that to him_.

“I didn’t- I didn’t think they’d worry,” he chokes out, trying to keep himself under control. He’s been numb the past week, keeping his emotions in a tightly contained box, but he’s starting to crack open and it’s not going to be pretty. “Danny took my place on Jonny’s line and then he got a hattrick and Jonny was so _happy_ , and he was _smiling_ , and he hasn’t been, and I just thought…” he has to take a deep breath again and when he looks at Abby he sees her trying to hide her tears.

“Of course they’re worried. We love you, Patty. _Jonny_ loves you.” Patrick can’t help but scoff at that. Jonny cares about him, but he doesn’t _love_ him. He would’ve told Patrick if he did. Abby must see the doubt on his face, because she frowns sadly at him. “Can you call Jonny for me?” she asks softly. “Just to let him know you’re safe.” _Safe_ , he thinks. Not _okay_ , but _safe_. He can do that. He probably owes Jonny that, anyway. He leaves the kitchen and heads back to his bedroom, staring at the phone in his hand. Before he can talk himself out of it he hits Jonny’s number and puts the phone up to his ear. It barely rings once before Jonny’s answering.

“Patrick?” He sounds breathless: relieved and scared and anxious.

“Hi,” Patrick says lowly, and then, “I’m safe. Abby’s here. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” Jonny says, voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for calling. I was worried.”

“You said you’d worry,” Patrick says nonsensically, closing his eyes and focusing on the sound of Jonny’s voice. It’s soothing in a way that’s probably not good; Patrick’s gotten so used to relying on Jonny that just hearing his voice helps to calm him.

“I did,” Jonny forces a laugh. “With everything going on, I thought… I don’t know what I thought. But thank you, Patrick, for calling me.” Patrick makes some kind of noise, presses his back against the wall and slides down until he’s sitting on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Patrick says again. “I- you were happy, in your interview and I just… I want you to be happy. I’m sorry that I haven’t been.”

“Hey, no, don’t apologize for how you feel. I don’t know what you’re going through, but I’ve been doing some reading and I just… You make me happy. I want you to know that, okay? Even when we’re at our worst, you’re the most important person in my life and there’s no one I would rather have at my side. You’re so, _so_ important Patrick.”

“Jonny-” Patrick tries to stop him, the words almost too much for him to handle right now. He can hear the truth of them ringing through Jonny’s voice, knows that Jonny means what he’s saying.

“I know I should’ve said this when you said it the first time, but there was so much going on and then I didn’t want the first time I said it to be over the phone, but I just… I love you, Patrick. I love you so much.”

All of the air whooshes out of Patrick’s lungs as he starts to cry, sobbing so hard that he loses his breath, drops the phone, and the next thing he knows, Abby’s on her knees next to him, cradling him to her chest and stroking his hair. She’s talking, words that don’t mean anything to him in that moment, but he feels her shift and then Jonny’s voice is there, flooding out of the tinny phone speaker. Patrick tries to focus on it, knows that whatever Jonny’s saying is important, and eventually the words start to take shape.

“Patrick, can you take a deep breath for me?” he’s asking. “Four seconds in, 7 seconds held, 8 seconds out.” Patrick almost wants to laugh at the instructions, the breathing technique they use if they go too hard on a workout and need to catch their breath, but he finds himself doing it on instinct, listening to Jonny’s voice counting him through it over and over again.

“Good,” Abby says, stroking a hand through his hair. “Good job, Patty. You’re doing good.” After a few more minutes he’s finally got his breathing under control, but his insides feel like they’re shaking, and his hands, when he tries to lift the phone again, are shaking too. “I’m gonna go back to the kitchen, okay?” she asks, waiting until Patrick nods before she stands up and leaves the room.

“Jonny?” Patrick’s voice is ragged, sounding so unlike himself that it startles him.

“I’m coming home,” Jonny says firmly, erratically. “I’m heading to the airport right now.”

“You can’t!” Patrick says frantically. “You still have games!” Patrick can’t be the reason Jonny misses games, that the team loses. He can’t do something else wrong.

“Fuck the games,” Jonny growls. “You’re more important than hockey.” The words hit Patrick like a slap to the face. There aren’t many things in Jonny’s life that are more important than hockey, and there’s no way that Patrick is one of them. “I mean it, Patrick. You’re more important than hockey. I’m coming home, okay?”

Patrick can only choke out an “okay,” listening to the rustling on Jonny’s side of the phone. He doesn’t want to hang up and he’s relieved when Jonny doesn’t even try. They’re not speaking, just listening to each other breathe, and Patrick can’t believe how much Jonny just _gets_ him, and he wonders if Jonny’s just as reluctant to hang up as he is. He hears hotel room doors, car doors, airport doors as Jonny makes his way back home to Patrick. Abby comes in at one point and gently coaxes him to the table where he eats the food she made absently, keeping the phone pressed against his ear.

“Hey,” Jonny says gently, right as Abby’s taking the empty plate away from him. “I have to hang up so I can get through security. I’ll see you in a couple hours, okay? Can you hang out with Abby until I get there?”

“Yeah,” Patrick agrees easily.

“I’ll see you soon. I love you.” Patrick opens his mouth to say it back, but he can’t. He’s spent the past week convincing himself that he can’t have that, that Jonny doesn’t want that, and the words stick in his throat.

“Hurry,” he finally says. Jonny promises him he will, and Patrick finally hangs up, setting his phone on the counter. He looks up to see Abby digging around in the freezer, pulling out a carton of ice cream that Danny must have snuck in.

“You in?” she asks. He has the distant thought that she’s just trying to get more calories in him, but he agrees. He can probably use them anyway. He feels a little wrung out, like he can barely hold his head up, but he accepts the bowl she hands him and follows her to the couch. He somehow manages to keep his eyes open enough to finish the ice cream before he sets the bowl on the coffee table, laying his head down on Abby’s lap and falling right to sleep.

He wakes up when he hears the front door opening, his brain registering _Jonny_ before he’s even fully awake and he’s halfway across the room before he even knows what he’s doing. He freezes mid-step, but Jonny’s already there, dropping his bags and closing the distance between them before Patrick can second guess himself. They don’t say anything as Jonny pulls him into a crushing hug, but Patrick clutches him back just as tightly, feeling like he can take a deep breath. Jonny’s here. It’s gonna be fine. They’ll figure it out.

“I’m gonna head out,” Abby says off to the side. Patrick jumps, startled. He’d forgotten she was there. He does have enough presence of mind to finally pull away from Jonny, turning to pull her into a hug.

“Thank you,” Patrick says, smacking a kiss to her cheek.

“Of course, Patty. We love you.” She turns to Jonny, hugging him, too, before she turns and leaves without a backward glance. When Patrick turns back around, he sees the way Jonny’s eyes travel over him. He flushes, realizing again what a mess he must be right now and he takes a small step back.

“Hey,” Jonny says, stepping back into his space, pulling him back into a hug. “Hey. I’m so glad to see you.” The words settle on him like a blanket and Patrick suddenly realizes how exhausted he still is, his head heavy and his eyes drooping.

“Can we go to bed?” he mumbles against Jonny’s shoulder. Jonny makes a little humming sound before he steps back from Patrick. He rests a heavy hand on the small of Patrick’s back and leads him to the bedroom. Stopping in the doorway, he makes another little considering sound and turns to Patrick.

“Can you do something for me?” he asks. Patrick nods without hesitation. “I’d like you to go take a shower and brush your teeth.” Patrick’s a little startled by the request; that’s not at all what he expected Jonny to say. He’s so tired, though, and the thought of having to stay awake that long makes a whine leave him before he can stop it. “I know, babe, we’ll go to bed soon. I just wanna change the sheets out and I think you’ll feel better once you’re cleaned up and in some fresh clothes.”

“I’m sorry I’m a mess,” Patrick says, flushing. Jonny steps closer again and tilts Patrick’s head up.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says gently. “I just think it would be good for you.”

“I know,” Patrick breathes. “I just… my head’s all messed up. It’s like my brain is interpreting things different than normal and I can’t-” He breaks off with a sigh. “Shower. Teeth. I can do that.” Jonny smiles and presses a kiss to Patrick’s forehead before turning him and steering him toward the shower.

Patrick doesn’t shower as long as he probably should, but he takes the time to wash his hair and face and he has to admit he does feel a little better already. He towels off and even combs his hair before he brushes his teeth and by the time he steps back into his bedroom, Jonny has the sheets changed out and the bed re-made. He’s not in the room, but there’s some pajamas laid out on the bed: a pair of sweatpants and one of Jonny’s old t-shirts. He’s not sure if they’re for him or for Jonny so he waits until he hears footsteps coming down the hall and then Jonny’s walking in with his overnight bag.

“Are those for you or me?” Patrick asks, gesturing at the clothes.

“For you,” Jonny smiles, so Patrick puts them on while Jonny changes his own clothes, and then Patrick’s crossing the room and pressing himself into Jonny’s arms without invitation. His fear and embarrassment from before disappeared the moment Jonny walked in and Jonny doesn’t hesitate before he wraps Patrick up, pressing his lips to Patrick’s hair. “Feel any better?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t brag about it,” Patrick mumbles, pulling back enough to look Jonny in the face. His smile is blinding and Patrick doesn’t know how he could’ve missed the way Jonny looked at him before. “Thanks. Can we go to bed now?” Jonny chuckles and Patrick feels himself smiling in response.

“Yeah, let’s go to bed.” Patrick’s relieved when he crawls in between the crisp sheets and he’s hit with the smell of fabric softener instead of sweat. He feels clean and he doesn’t know why he didn’t think of doing all of this before. And then he rolls over onto Jonny and he’s hit with another smell.

“You smell like airplane,” he grumbles, burrowing closer to Jonny. Jonny’s hand comes up to stroke through his hair as he chuckles.

“I can go shower if you want.” Patrick’s hand clenches in Jonny’s shirt before he can move. “That’s what I thought.” Patrick can feel his eyes slipping closed already, but his brain is still going a mile a minute.

“Jonny?” Jonny hums. “Can you talk to me? I just… need something to focus on.” Jonny thinks for a few seconds and then starts in on a recap of the 2010 cup win, starting with round 1. He pays a lot of attention to the plays that Patrick made, the things he did well, and Patrick knows that he’s doing it on purpose but finds himself smiling anyway. He falls asleep somewhere in round 3 with a smile on his face.

When he wakes up the next morning, he’s got his face buried against Jonny’s chest and Jonny’s arm around his waist. Patrick can’t see his face, but he must be awake because his fingers are skating up and down Patrick’s back. Patrick sniffles and pulls back to blink blearily at him.

“Good morning,” Jonny says, wide awake. He must’ve been laying here for a while; he’s never this alert in the mornings. He must see the confused look on Patrick’s face because he says, “I didn’t want you to wake up alone.” Patrick wants to kiss him. He doesn’t- he _can’t_ \- but the thought is there. “You hungry? I can make breakfast.” The real answer is no, but he knows he can’t say that so he just nods. Jonny presses a kiss to his forehead, his hand squeezing Patrick’s hip once before he lets go and rolls out of bed. Patrick suppresses a yawn as he watches him go, stretching idly before he catches a glimpse of his phone on his nightstand. He needs to call Sharpy. He better get it over with now before he loses his nerve.

“Peeks!” Sharpy says, and suddenly Patrick can hear the clamour of the team in the background, Danny’s voice briefly louder than the rest. Patrick checks the time and figures Sharpy must just be getting to the locker room before practice. He hears him shouting indistinctly for a second before everything goes quiet and a door closes. “Sorry, the boys were worried about you.”

“You were worried, too,” Patrick says softly. “I’m sorry, I turned my phone off.”

Sharpy doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and then: “Abby said you looked awful.” Patrick snorts out a laugh that’s anything but amused. “Seriously, Patrick, are you okay?”

“No,” Patrick says truthfully. “I’m not.”

“Does it have to do with Danny?” Sharpy asks, voice low like he’s afraid of being overheard. Patrick sighs.

“I don’t really wanna do this over the phone. I promise I’ll talk to you soon,” Patrick says just as Jonny walks back in the room. He hesitates in the doorway until Patrick mouths _Sharpy_ at him and then he comes over and crawls on the bed, flopping his whole weight down on top of Patrick. His _oof_ must be audible, because Sharpy chuckles.

“I guess Tazer’s there with you, then?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Patrick says, and he knows he sounds a little too relieved about it.

“That’s good,” Sharpy says seriously. “I’m glad he went home.” Patrick doesn’t say anything because he still feels guilty about the whole thing, but he really is glad Jonny’s here. He smiles at the top of Jonny’s head- the only part of him that Patrick can see. “Hey, Peeks…” Sharpy hesitates. “Danny wants to talk to you. You weren’t answering his calls either and he was worried. Do you want…” Sharpy trails off and Patrick feels his chest constricting. He can’t talk to Danny right now. He _can’t_. He’s always put on a happy face with Danny, pretended like nothing was wrong because that’s what he _had_ to do. If he has to talk to Danny right now he doesn’t know what he would say, how he could pretend to be normal. He doesn’t realize his breath is coming in short pants until Jonny snatches the phone from his hand.

“Tell him Patrick needs some space,” Jonny tells Sharpy quietly. “They’ll talk when you guys get home.” Sharpy says something Patrick can’t hear and Jonny hands the phone back to him after a second.

“You take care of yourself, Peeks,” Sharpy commands. “And let Jonny take care of you. Whatever you need, alright?” Patrick agrees, moved by the emotion in Sharpy’s voice. “I gotta go to practice, but I’ll see you soon.” When Patrick hangs up, he feels a little lighter. Jonny picks his head up so he can look at Patrick and Patrick brings his hand up to cup the back of his head.

“I don’t deserve you guys,” Patrick says quietly, watching as Jonny’s face goes from soft to fierce.

“Don’t say shit like that,” Jonny argues. “You deserve _everything_ , Pat.” The words hit Patrick but he pushes them away. It’s not true. He’s a mess and he’s been making everyone miserable. Jonny must see the struggle on his face because he just sighs, taking the hand Patrick has on his head and pulling it to his mouth to kiss his knuckles. “Come on, your breakfast is getting cold.” He follows Jonny into the kitchen and eats the eggs and toast Jonny set out for him. “What time’s your appointment?”

“At nine,” Patrick mumbles. Jonny checks his watch.

“Cool, we’ll leave after we finish eating and then we need to go grocery shopping.” Patrick flushes, remembering the barren state of his cabinets and refrigerator. He’s glad he doesn’t have to go grocery shopping alone, though. The thought of being in a crowded place where people might recognize him makes him shudder. At least Jonny will be there to run interference. When he finishes eating he heads back to the bedroom to change. This will be the first time he’s worn something other than a hoodie and sweatpants to his appointment.

When he walks by Danny’s room and sees all of his things spread out, the thought hits Patrick like lightning. Did Jonny only sleep in his bed because he had nowhere else to sleep? The thought is immediately followed up with the thought that Jonny _flew home and skipped games_ for him. But the original thought remains. Jonny could’ve gone back to his place, but he was worried about Patrick. Obviously he wanted to keep an eye on Patrick, but is that because they’re friends or because he really loves him like he says?

Patrick has to shake himself out of the thoughts, knowing they’ll lead him down a path he doesn’t want to go down. He gets dressed quick and it’s honestly a relief, letting Jonny drive him through town. Patrick can close his eyes and just listen to the hum of the radio, not paying attention to the other cars or the people. Jonny’s hand lands on his knee and Patrick reaches out to hold it without a second thought.

When he walks into the trainers’ room, Rob does a double take at him. Patrick doesn’t pretend to not know why. Freshly showered in actual clothes, having eaten the past 2 meals _and_ gotten a good night’s sleep? He’s practically a different person. When Jonny walks into the office behind him, Rob doesn’t hide his surprise.

“Jon!” he greets, shaking Jonny’s hand. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the road? I don’t need to be checking up on you, too, do I?”

“Nah,” Jonny says. “I just had something important I had to take care of.” Rob’s eyes flick over to Patrick and Patrick knows he’s blushing but he gets up on the table anyway so Rob can take a look at his leg. The appointment passes pretty quick, and even Jonny seems happy with how Patrick’s recovery seems to be going. Rob promises Patrick that he’ll be able to play the first home game after the circus trip. He has mixed feelings about that; he’s not sure he’s ready, but there’s not much he can do about it.

The trip to the grocery store is pretty uneventful. Mid-morning on a Tuesday isn’t a busy time for grocery shopping, and Jonny’s inclined to let Patrick pick out whatever he wants. And that’s the thing: some things actually look _good_ to Patrick. He hasn’t had an appetite in weeks, but he sees the pancake mix and his mouth starts to water. He tries to keep most of his choices on the healthier side, but he can’t help slipping in a few snacks. Jonny pretends not to see, but Patrick can tell by the way his mouth turns up at the corners that he knows.

They spend a lazy afternoon on the couch after they eat lunch, and Patrick makes Jonny watch all the x-men movies with him. Patrick spends the whole time pointing out how attractive Erik Lehnsherr is just because he likes the way Jonny’s face gets all pinched. They eat dinner together and then go lay in bed, Jonny reading a book while Patrick watches some stupid youtube videos. It’s nice. It’s comfortable. It’s not reality. Patrick knows that this is a bubble, that in a couple days the team will come back and Danny will walk in the front door and Jonny will go home. Patrick will have to go back to the locker room, the ice, the media. He doesn’t want to think about it. Instead he rolls over and presses his face against Jonny’s arm, snuggling in close and closing his eyes. He drifts off to sleep to the sound of Jonny’s pages turning and the ticking of a clock.

The next couple of days pass in the same way, Jonny driving him to his appointment in the morning and then going home to lounge around. Jonny does convince him to do some light skating and upper body exercises to make sure to keep himself warmed up. He’s been slacking on his workouts and his body can feel it when he starts back up. The morning the team’s set to come back home, he has a hard time getting out of bed. He wakes up some time around 5am and lays there in the dark listening to Jonny breathing and watching the light in the room change as the sun comes up. Jonny wakes up around 7, takes one look at Patrick, kisses him on the forehead, and leaves the room. The team has a day off today to recover, so Patrick stays wrapped up in his blankets until Jonny comes back a few minutes later with some yogurt, a protein bar, and some water. Patrick’s grateful; he doesn’t know if he could stomach anything else. Jonny waits until he’s eaten everything and is finishing up the water before he lays back down, pulling Patrick with him.

“How do you always know exactly what I need?” Patrick asks, reaching out to grip the hand Jonny’s laid between them with both of his own.

“We’ve spent so many years together, Pat, it would be horrible of me if I _didn’t_ know you so well,” Jonny chuckles, and then more seriously: “And I’ve been really worried about you recently so I guess I’ve spent some extra time trying to think about what you want and need.” Patrick’s eyes flick up to his face and then back down to their linked hands.

“I’m sorry I made you worry,” he murmurs.

“You don’t have to apologize for the way you feel,” Jonny reiterates gently. He pulls Patrick’s hands up to his mouth and kisses his knuckles before he settles their hands back down. He seems to be able to sense that there’s something Patrick needs to say and he waits patiently.

“I think-” Patrick tries to say. The words keep getting stuck in his throat and he has to convince himself to say them out loud. “I think I might need to see someone. A… a therapist or something.” Jonny’s face stays open and understanding, encouraging, and Patrick finds himself talking before he can think about what he’s saying, putting to words things he _never_ thought he would say out loud. Jonny waits patiently, intently, while Patrick spills over, years and years of hurt being pushed out into the open. When Patrick’s done, he’s wrung out, vulnerable. He tries to pull his hands away, hide his face from Jonny, but Jonny just pulls him closer and allows Patrick to press his face against his chest and cry and cry and cry until he can’t anymore.

They stay there, pressed together in silence, until the front door opens. Patrick tenses immediately, his breath coming faster, but Jonny shushes him, smoothes a hand down his back and whispers nonsense to him until he relaxes again. When the tentative knock comes to the bedroom door, Jonny presses a kiss to Patrick’s hair and gets up to answer it. Jonny only opens the door a crack, not letting Danny see into the room, and if Patrick wasn’t so emptied out right now, he would probably feel a surge of total adoration knowing that Jonny’s trying to protect him.

“Is he okay?” he hears Danny ask hesitantly. Jonny pauses for a moment.

“He will be, I think.”

“Can I talk to him?” Danny sounds worried, and Patrick thinks he’s trying to look past Jonny into the room. Jonny blocks him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. I think-” Jonny shoots a quick look back at Patrick, and continues at Patrick’s encouraging nod. “I think he wants to talk to you soon, but not yet. Just go get some rest, alright?” Danny hovers for a moment, like he may try to argue with him, but finally walks away. Jonny comes and settles back on the bed, pulling Patrick onto his chest again.

“I’m gonna take a nap,” Patrick mumbles, falling asleep before he hears Jonny’s reply.

🏒🏒🏒

When he wakes up Jonny’s still there- of course he is- with a filled up water bottle and a granola bar for Patrick.

“You need to eat some real food today,” he says first thing, handing Patrick the granola bar. Patrick doesn’t know why he’s so relieved that Jonny’s treating him exactly the same as he did before, but a little bit of the weight falls off his shoulders.

“That’s what you’re here for,” he grumbles before drinking some of the water. Jonny lets him sit in silence for a little bit before he finally asks:

“Are you going to talk to Danny about all of this?” Patrick sighs.

“I need to. I _know_ I need to. It’s just really hard.” He looks over at Jonny, needs to be looking him in the eyes when he admits, “You’re the first person I’ve _ever_ told about any of this. _Ever_.” Jonny’s whole face softens and he reaches up to run a thumb over Patrick’s cheekbone before he leans in and presses a chaste kiss to his lips. Patrick’s breath catches in the split second that Jonny’s lips are on his.

“I probably shouldn’t have done that,” Jonny says, running the same thumb over Patrick’s lips like he’s sealing the kiss. “I don’t want to complicate any of this. You were right that this isn’t the right time for us to start something.”

“I love you,” Patrick says quietly. “That’s not gonna change, but I need to sort all this out first.” He sighs, rolling himself off the bed and stretching himself out. “But I’m gonna take a page from your book and go shower and put some new clothes on first.”

“I’ll go make some real food,” Jonny says, already heading toward the door. He pauses in the doorway. “Do you wanna eat with Danny, or have me bring it in here?” Patrick thinks for a second, but he knows he has to face his brother eventually.

“I’ll come out there. He probably wants to see me.” Jonny gives him an encouraging smile, and then he’s out the door. Patrick showers for probably longer than he should, just to avoid having this conversation, but he can’t stall forever. Eventually he dries off and gets dressed, making his way into the kitchen. When Danny catches sight of him, he does a double take, looking at Patrick like he’s seeing him for the first time.

“Patty?” he asks, sounding confused and a little scared. He doesn’t think he’s changed _that_ much in the past two weeks. Although now that he looks down at himself, he does look a little thinner. Patrick tries on a smile and sits down at the table where Jonny’s already set out a plate for him. He nudges Jonny’s foot under the table in thanks and Jonny gives him an encouraging smile. “Patty, what-”

“Can we do this after we eat?” he interrupts quietly. Danny’s mouth snaps shut and he nods once, like he’s on a mission to eat as quickly and efficiently as possible. He finishes eating before Patrick does, cleaning up after himself and then moving into the living room. He doesn’t turn the tv on or pull his phone out, just sits there on the couch staring at the wall. Patrick can’t eat anymore. He pushes the plate away and Jonny’s up immediately, taking it from him and cleaning up after them. Patrick doesn’t move until he comes back, and then he stands, stepping into Jonny’s space and hugging him.

“Do you want to do this now?” Jonny asks. “You can tell him no if you’re not ready.”

“No,” Patrick sighs, stepping back. “It’s fine. I think I just want to get this part over with.”

“Do you want me there? I can hide out somewhere if you want.” Patrick reaches out and grabs hold of his wrist before he knows what he’s doing.

“No. Stay with me. Please.” Jonny’s nodding before he’s even done asking, and with another deep breath, Patrick turns, keeping hold of Jonny’s wrist, and makes his way into the living room. He sits on the other couch adjacent to where Danny’s sitting so he can look at him properly. He feels like he’s gonna throw up. Jonny sits next to him and Patrick grabs hold of his hand, pulling it into his own lap so he can lace his fingers with Jonny’s.

He doesn’t know where to start. He knows where he _wants_ to start, but every word would be cutting to Danny, and as messed up as Patrick is, Danny’s never intentionally hurt him. He opens and closes his mouth a couple times, has a couple false starts, but Jonny and Danny wait patiently, allowing him to gather his thoughts.

“I don’t really know where to start,” he admits, just to say _something_. And then the words come tumbling out. “I feel like I’ve lived in your shadow our entire lives. You’ve always been better than me at everything and everyone always liked you more. No matter what I did, you were always right there doing it better. You kissed my fucking girlfriend.” He didn’t really mean to bring that up, but there it is. “And we were always invited to all the parties and stuff growing up but I felt like I was more of an afterthought, an addition to you. The team liked you better, and so did our sisters, and mom and dad always talked about how great you are at everything.” He doesn’t dare look at Danny’s face, but it feels easier this time to say the words now that he’s already said them to Jonny. “But I was better at hockey, and I got drafted first overall, and I moved away and got my own life.” He looks over at Jonny, who squeezes his hand.

“I was happy here, and I had friends that I didn’t have to worry were constantly comparing me to you, and I mean dad still likes to tell me all the things you’re doing right and I’m doing wrong, but it’s not like I can escape dad.” Danny makes a noise then, but he sees Jonny shaking his head out of the corner of his eye and Danny falls silent. “I know you didn’t mean to do any of it,” Patrick assures him, eyes still firmly on the floor. “But I was so happy here and then I found out you were coming here too and it just… really messed me up. Everyone was so happy you were here, and it’s stupid and irrational, I _know_ that, but I thought all my friends would end up liking you better anyway. That I’d lose them.

“And then I got hurt and you were on Jonny’s line and you guys were scoring and winning and that really fucking hurt.” He looks up at Jonny as he says, “That’s why I turned my phone off and ignored everyone. I thought you were all so happy that I would just bring you down. And Jonny I told you I _loved_ you and then-” he cuts himself off. This is about Danny, not Jonny. But Jonny squeezes his hand and leans over to press a kiss to his temple. Patrick takes a deep breath and then turns and looks Danny in the eyes for the first time. “So that’s what’s been going on.”

“I had no idea,” Danny says, tears in his eyes, voice wavering. “I could see that you were happy here. Like I would watch your interviews and your highlights and stuff and I never saw you smile like that at home, but I didn’t know _why_ you weren’t happy. I thought- when I got traded here I thought it would be awesome. I thought maybe we could start over, since things were better with you.”

“Yeah, things _were_ better,” Patrick laughs humorlessly. “I had friends and my own space and people that just… loved me for me. But it’s just that when you got here it was like all those things didn’t matter anymore in my brain. All those pranks you pulled on me growing up, like, conditioned me into thinking everything you did was awful and if that you were around then I was going to be miserable.” Danny flinches and Patrick wants to take the words back, but they’re true. He doesn’t want to lie and pretend anymore.

“I thought I was helping by including you in the pranks and stuff,” Danny says quietly. “I thought if you felt more included maybe that would help you be friends with everyone. You were always so closed off from everyone, I thought...” He trails off, eyes distant like he’s seeing everything that happened in the past in a whole new light. After a second horror settles on Danny’s face as he realizes the toll his actions took on Patrick. “Every time we pulled a prank you would just pull further away and I didn’t even _notice_.”

“You were trying to help,” Patrick says, trying the words out on his tongue. He can see how Danny would think that, but they were never on the same page. They never _talked_ to each other, just assumed they knew what was going on. Patrick has a hard time accepting that, accepting that all of his scars could’ve been prevented if he had just told Danny how he was feeling, if Danny had just asked him.

“I- I’m sorry,” Danny says, looking at Patrick. “I- do you want me to move out? I didn’t even ask- I just moved in with you without even asking if it was okay.”

“No,” Patrick sighs, leaning back against the couch and bringing his free hand up to rub at his face. “No point. I need to deal with this and not just avoid it forever. Jonny and I-” Patrick breaks off, shooting a glance at Jonny. “I think I’m gonna start seeing a therapist and try to, like, talk through it. I know we have someone on the team staff, or I could find someone in town or something.”

“We’ll look into it,” Jonny promises. “We’ll do whatever you need.” Patrick can’t help but relax at that. As long as Jonny’s with him, they can do it. He’ll be fine. But now that he’s thinking about it-

“How did you get them to let you come home early?” he asks, suddenly terrified that he’s going to have to put up with a pissed Quenville on top of everything else.

“I told them you needed me,” Jonny shrugs.

“And that worked?” Jonny looks at him flatly.

“Patrick, you don’t seem to understand how much this team cares about you,” Jonny says. Patrick… doesn’t know what to say. They love him, sure, but enough to let _both_ of their star players miss games? He decides to ignore that, for now. He’ll try to process that later. He turns back to Danny, who still looks like the rug has been pulled out from under him, but he’s smiling sadly.

“I’m really glad you two found each other,” he says. “And that you’re happy here. I never meant to-” he cuts off.

“I know. Thanks.” Patrick’s pretty ready for this conversation to be over and the pleading look he sends Jonny’s way must get the message across because Jonny picks up the TV remote and starts flipping through shows, settling on some older episodes of Hawaii Five-0. They all sit together in silence, lost in their own thoughts, but _together_. It feels important. Everything’s out in the open, and nothing has imploded, and Patrick wonders if this is what his life could really be like: Jonny and Patrick and _family._ He looks over and catches Jonny’s eye, trying to show everything he’s feeling on his face, and when he smiles it feels real.

🏒🏒🏒

The second he steps in the locker room for practice the next day, the team is _on_ him, tackling him with hugs and pulling him into headlocks to ruffle his hair. He can’t stop the peals of laughter even as he’s trying to push them all away, fighting his way to his stall so he can drop his stuff. He sees Shawzy coming and manages to grab him first, twisting out the way before jumping on his back. He lets Shawzy piggyback him around the room so he can catch up with some of the guys, but he sees Sharpy, Seabs, and Duncs crowded around Jonny’s stall. He hopes Jonny’s not about to spill everything in the locker room of all places. He knows he needs to talk to the boys, too, but he’s spilled his soul enough the past couple of days that he doesn’t know if he can do it again yet.

Shawzy drops him off back at his own stall and Patrick suits up, getting ready to go on the ice for real for the first time since his injury. It… could be worse. He gets tired out too easily and he has to take a few more breaks to catch his breath, but he didn’t really expect to be 100% when he’s been treating his body like a garbage can for the past couple of weeks. Thankfully, they’re not doing line drills today so he doesn’t have to worry about whose line he’s going to be on. A problem for another day. Overall, he’s not playing _badly_. Better than he was before, for sure. At least now some of his shots are going in the net.

He’s just finishing getting dressed after his shower, slipping on his shoes, when someone calls his name across the locker room. It’s Q, waving Patrick over to the door. When he gets there, he sees a woman on the other side, smiling pleasantly at him. Q walks away before Patrick can ask what’s going on, but a second later, Jonny’s there at his back and they step out into the hallway with her.

“Hi Mr. Kane, Mr. Toews.” She holds out a hand to shake. “My name is Leah Kahn. I’m the team appointed psychologist. I’ve been told you’re interested in setting up an appointment with me.”

“Uh, yeah,” Patrick says, looking at Jonny. His cheeks are a little pink, and Patrick knows that this is his doing. Part of him thinks he should be irritated at Jonny for doing this without telling him, but a larger part is pleased that Jonny was looking out for him. Leah holds out a card with her email and phone number on it.

“Take this, and whenever you’re ready, you can give me a call or shoot me an email and we’ll get you set up.”

“Thanks,” Patrick says, taking the card. It doesn’t feel like it’s as big of a moment as it should. It’s just a card. She’s just a person. She excuses herself, leaving Patrick and Jonny in the hallway alone. “Looks like I have an appointment to make.”

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” Jonny says quickly. “I talked to her just to see what she was like. I didn’t think she would just show up like that. I was going to mention her to you and see if you wanted to see her first. You can find someone else if you want.”

“It’s okay,” Patrick soothes him, wanting nothing more than to kiss him right now. “I kinda liked her initiative. I’ll… set up an appointment.”

They set it up for an off day in Chicago, about a week after Leah first introduced herself in the arena hallway. Jonny drives him, both because he’s overprotective and because Patrick doesn’t know what’s about to happen. He’s afraid. Spilling his secrets to Jonny is one thing; it’s something else entirely to tell his worst memories to a stranger. When Jonny parks the car, Patrick puts his hand on the door handle and just… doesn’t open the door. He feels frozen in place.

“Are you okay?” Jonny asks.

“Terrified,” Patrick breathes.

“I can go in with you?” Jonny asks, and Patrick knows he should say no, that Jonny’s already done too much for him, but he finds himself saying yes anway, relieved when Jonny follows him into the building. He can’t cling to Jonny the way he wants to- not in public- but Jonny stands close enough that Patrick can feel his warmth on his arm and it’s enough. He checks in, waits in the uncomfortable plastic chairs, and tries not to panic. “Hey, everything’s gonna be okay. Do you still want to do this?”

“Yes,” Patrick says, without hesitation. He _does_. He _knows_ this is gonna help. It’s also gonna be the most terrifying thing he’s ever done, making himself vulnerable like this.

“Patrick?” the receptionist calls. “She’s ready for you.” Patrick reaches out and squeezes Jonny’s hand, just once, before he stands up. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and walks back to her office.

~~~~~ Epilogue~~~~~

_8 months later_

Patrick doesn't think he should be this nervous to see Jonny. Leah said that this meeting would be _good_ for him, especially after not seeing Jonny for a couple months, but it’s _different_ now. Jonny had gone to a lot of Patrick's meetings in the beginning, and so had Danny, and even Sharpy a couple times. It was difficult, went against everything in his nature to talk about the past, to poke at old bruises. Leah had insisted it was the only way to heal; he hadn't believed her at the time, but as the weeks and months passed, he can see how far he's come. For the first time in his life, he can look at Danny without feeling resentment and bitterness, and guilt. He can look at himself in the mirror and see the things that are good about him instead of the things that are bad. Some days are better than others, but now there are more good days than bad.

It's been almost 8 months since he started seeing her, and almost 4 months since he last saw Jonny. Leah thought they should spend some time apart, that Patrick was using Jonny as an emotional crutch and he needed to learn how to rely on himself instead of Jonny. Patrick fought it at first- they both did- but they agreed to stay away from each other over the summer. It’s nothing they haven’t done before anyway. Jonny left town in April and other than the occasional check-in conversation, they stayed firmly out of contact. Patrick even had to make his excuses about why he couldn't be at the convention this year, which he knew made a lot of fans upset but it was necessary. On his bad days, Patrick was convinced Jonny had abandoned him, didn't care what happened to him, was glad to be rid of him. But he knew- he _knew-_ that wasn't true. It was those thoughts that made the staying apart necessary, and it really did help Patrick. He had to find ways of dealing with the bad thoughts without shoving them all off on Jonny’s shoulders, which was one of the biggest reasons he knew they couldn’t be in a relationship yet.

But now, Patrick's doing _so much_ better. He's in a better place, his thoughts mostly healthy and happy and… well, Jonny's back in town. Patrick mentioned it to Leah, just to see what she would say, and she gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up to go see him. She was happy with his progress and believed he could handle this. He didn't tell Jonny about his visit, wanting to surprise him, but now that he's standing in front of Jonny’s door, he's nervous. What if Jonny isn't ready to see him? He knows the break was as good for Jonny as it was for him, allowing them both to clear their heads and get back on equal footing. Patrick probably should've called ahead, planned the meeting in advance. He's already at Jonny's door, but there's still time for him to leave. Jonny doesn't have to know.

Of course, that’s when the door opens, and Jonny’s standing there looking shocked beyond belief.

“Patrick?” he’s breathless, standing frozen in the doorway with his keys in his hand like he was just about to go out.

“Hey,” Patrick says awkwardly. “Is this a bad time? I knew I should’ve called; I can come back later.”

“No!” Jonny stops him with a hand on the arm, and then he’s pulling Patrick to him, wrapping him in a hug so tight Patrick almost can’t breathe. He lets himself clutch Jonny back, burying his face against Jonny’s shoulder while trying to take stock of his own emotions. He only feels relief at seeing Jonny, at being welcomed so warmly, and the affection that he’s always felt toward Jonny. He’s not ready yet to call it love again. He needs to work back up to that. “Come in,” Jonny says when he finally- reluctantly- pulls away. He keeps one hand on Patrick’s arm and guides him into the kitchen, leading him to a chair before letting go to grab a couple bottles of gatorade from the fridge. He puts one in front of Patrick and sits down across from him with a bright smile.

“How was your summer?” Patrick asks softly, unable to hide his grin. Jonny just stares at him for a few seconds and Patrick sees tears in his eyes before he blinks them back.

“It was good,” he smiles back. “Pat, you look- you look _great_.” Patrick’s smile widens. “Just seeing you smile is…” Jonny trails off, but he leans across the table and wraps a hand around Patrick’s own. “Everything’s going well?”

“Yeah, I’m doing a lot better,” Patrick agrees. “Leah said she thought it would be a good thing to see you, so I think that alone shows how much better I’m doing.” They sit there smiling at each other for a few seconds before they both burst into laughter at how _awkward_ they’re being. This is just Jonny. “Whatever, dickhead, what are you doing for lunch?”

“I was just about to head out to find somewhere to eat,” Jonny says. “Go with me.” So that’s how they spend the next few hours together, eating lunch, walking around Chicago, taking in the familiar sights. It’s the first time Patrick’s gone out in awhile just to _go_ and everything looks brighter, crisper, especially with Jonny’s shoulder bumping into his as they walk. They don’t even get stopped for autographs, and Patrick’s just… happy. He doesn’t remember a time that he ever felt this happy, this quick to laugh.

“So you and Danny are good now?” Jonny asks as they’re walking back into his apartment.

“Yeah, he went to some of my sessions with me and we talked through a lot of stuff. We’ve been spending time together, just the two of us, and actually getting to know each other. It feels weird to say that about my own brother, but we didn’t _know_ each other.” Jonny hums in understanding and Patrick shoots him a smile as Jonny turns to face him in the living room. “We talk on the phone once a week. He went home to Buffalo and then on a trip after the convention so he isn’t back here yet. I think this season will be the real test, but Leah’s been helping and I think if I keep seeing her then it’ll be okay.”

“I’m so proud of you,” Jonny says, stepping toward Patrick and putting his hands on Patrick’s shoulders. _It’s now or never_ , Patrick thinks, looking up at Jonny nervously.

“So, you know that whole thing where I told you I loved you and you didn’t say it back for awhile, and then you did and I had a panic attack? And then you came home and basically nannied me for a few days?” Jonny’s face shutters a little, guarded in a way that makes Patrick nervous. He pushes through it when Jonny nods. “So, I still feel the same way about you.” He knows he doesn’t imagine the way Jonny’s shoulders droop in relief. “But I need to take things slow, Jonny. I can’t put that much pressure on you again and I can’t rely on you like that and you can’t let me, okay?”

“Okay,” Jonny says slowly. “But, where’s the line? I know that maybe it was too much before, but I don’t want you to feel like you can’t lean on me sometimes. Relationships are about supporting each other, too.”

“Yeah.” Patrick steps closer until they’re practically chest to chest, Jonny’s arms slipping around his shoulders while he brings his own arms around Jonny’s waist. “That’s why we’re gonna have to go slow. You might have to go to some more sessions with me, especially if I feel like things are slipping again. I just want you to know that I still want this, and I want you to have an idea what you’re getting into.”

“I don’t have any problem taking this slow, Peeks,” Jonny says lowly, a flush crawling up his cheeks, but he looks Patrick in the eye when he says, “If everything goes my way, we’ll have the rest of our lives together to figure this out, so it doesn’t matter how long it takes to get there.” Patrick’s struck speechless, overwhelmed by this man who’s been at his side at his worst, yet still sees him as his best. He can’t help but stand up on his toes, pressing his lips to Jonny’s gently, just for a second. When he pulls back, Jonny’s smiling at him, soft and fond.

“The rest of our lives sounds good to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr:  
> [kwriteshockey](https://kwriteshockey.tumblr.com//)  
> [kkane88](https://kkane88.tumblr.com/)  
>   
> Spoiler-y warnings:  
> Patrick is really insecure about his twin brother and the twin gets traded to Chicago. Patrick spirals and falls into depression (no self harm or suicidal thoughts at all, not even mentioned). He has trouble sleeping, a loss of appetite, and has a panic attack near the end of the fic. His parents are also not the best and there are mentions of his siblings (mildly) bullying him when he was younger. He goes to therapy at the end of the fic, but none of the appointments are described.


End file.
